


A Touch of Darkness

by scarlettstclairauthor



Category: Greek Mythology, Myths - Fandom, greek gods - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Greek Mythology Retellings, Greek gods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-14 22:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20608421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettstclairauthor/pseuds/scarlettstclairauthor
Summary: Persephone is the Goddess of Spring by title only. The truth is, since she was a little girl, flowers have shriveled at her touch. After moving to New Athens, she hopes to lead an unassuming life disguised as a mortal journalist.Hades, God of the Dead, has built a gambling empire in the mortal world and his favorite bets are rumored to be impossible.After a chance encounter with Hades, Persephone finds herself in a contract with the God of the Dead and the terms are impossible: Persephone must create life in the Underworld or lose her freedom forever.The bet does more than expose Persephone's failure as a Goddess, however. As she struggles to sow the seeds of her freedom, love for the God of the Dead grows-and it's forbidden.





	1. The Narcissus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

Persephone sat in the sunlight. 

She'd chosen her favorite spot at The Coffee House, an outdoor table just out of view of the shop's window. Shade trees and box gardens teeming with purple aster and pink and white sweet alyssum lined the crowded pedestrian street. A light breeze carried the scent of spring and the honeyed air was mild. 

This was her season. She should have felt more relaxed.  
But her eyes drifted to a bunch of narcissus flowers that sat in a slender vase on her table. It was a sparse bouquet, and one flower's petals were crisp and brown, curling like the fingers of a corpse. 

The narcissus were the flower and symbol of Hades, the God of the Dead. They did not often decorate tables, but coffins instead. Their presence at The Coffee House probably meant that the owners were in mourning. It wasn't common for mortals to worship Hades, and even his cult—mortals who maintained his temple—was small, and used only when death loomed.  
Persephone wondered how Hades felt about that—to only be worshipped out of fear of death. Perhaps that was why he was so merciless. 

"Don't waste your time rationalizing his behavior, daughter," Demeter, her mother and the Goddess of Harvest, had said. "Hades is a manipulator."

And from what Persephone had heard since she moved to New Athens, her mother seemed to be right. Hades might be the God of the Dead, but he was also known as the Rich One. He controlled most of the world's wealth, and had invested that money into a several clubs throughout New Greece—and not just any clubs. These were gambling dens. It was said Hades liked a good bet, and rarely accepted a wager other than the human soul.

Persephone tore her gaze from the flowers, and focused instead on her laptop and notes. It was Thursday, and she had left school an hour ago. She ordered her usual vanilla latte, and needed to start working on her research paper. She wanted to finish today so she could concentrate on her new internship at New Athens News, the leading news source in New Athens. If she did well, she'd have a job after she graduated in six months.  
And she was eager to prove herself. 

Her internship was located in the Acropolis. It was the tallest building in the city at one-hundred-and-one floors. One of the first things Persephone did when she moved to New Athens was take an elevator to the top so she could see the city in its entirety. Now, four years later, it was hard for her to believe she would be going there on an almost daily basis for work.  
Persephone's phone buzzed on the table.

She looked down and found a message from her best friend, Lexa Sideris. Lexa was Persephone's first friend when she'd moved to New Athens four years ago. Through Lexa, Persephone had learned to be mortal. 

Where are you?

Persephone responded, The Coffee House. 

Why? We need to celebrate! 

Persephone smiled. Ever since she'd told Lexa about her new job two week ago, she'd been hounding her to go out for drinks. Persephone had managed to postpone going, but she was quickly running out of excuses and Lexa knew it.

I am celebrating. Persephone text. With a vanilla latte. 

Not with coffee. Alcohol. Shots. You + Me. Tonight. 

Before Persephone could respond, a waitress approached holding a tray and her steaming latte. Persephone came here often enough to know the girl was as new as the narcissus. Her hair was in two braids, and her eyes were dark and laced with heavy lashes.

The girl smiled as she approached. 

"Vanilla latte?" The girl asked. 

"Yes," Persephone said.

The waitress sat Persephone's mug down, and then tucked her tray under her arm. 

"Need anything else?" 

Persephone met the girl's gaze. "Do you think Lord Hades has a sense of humor?" 

Her eyes widened, and she responded, "I don't know what you mean."

The girl was clearly uncomfortable, probably at the hearing Hades' name. Most tried to avoid saying it, or they called him Aidoneus, to avoid drawing his attention, but Persephone wasn't afraid. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was a goddess. 

"I think he must have a sense of humor," she said again. "The narcissi are a symbol of spring and rebirth," her fingers hovered over the flower, not touching the petals. If anything, it should be her symbol. "Why else would he claim the small flower as his?"

Persephone stared back at the girl, and the her cheeks flushed. She stammered, "L-let me know if you need anything."

She bowed her head and went back to work. 

Persephone snapped a picture of her latte and sent it to Lexa before taking a sip. 

She put her earbuds in, and consulted her planner. Persephone liked being organized, but more than that, she liked being busy, and her weeks were packed—school on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and up to three hours each day at her new internship. The more she did, the more excuses she had for not going home to see her mother in Olympia. 

Next week, she had a history test and a paper due for the same class. She wasn't worried, though. History was one of her favorite subjects. They were discussing The Great Descent, the name given to the day the gods came to Earth and the battles that followed. 

It wasn't long before Persephone was lost in her research and writing. She was reading a scholar who claimed Hades' decision to resurrect Zeus and Athena's heroes had been the deciding factor in the final battle when a pair of well-manicured hands slammed Persephone's laptop shut. She jumped and looked into a pair of striking blue eyes. They were set in an oval face framed with thick, black hair. 

Persephone took out her headphones. "Lexa—" she said.

Her roommate smiled. "Guess. What."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was walking home from class and thought I'd stop by and tell you the good news."  
She bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet, her blue-black hair bobbed with her. 

"What news?" Persephone asked. 

"I got us into Nevernight!" Lexa could barely keep a handle on her voice, and at the mention of the famous club, several people turned to stare. 

"Shh!" Persephone commanded. "Do you want to get us killed?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Lexa rolled her eyes, but she lowered her voice, knowing Persephone wasn't overreacting. Nevernight was impossible to get into. There was a three-month waiting list, and Persephone knew why. 

Nevernight was owned by Hades. 

Most businesses owned by the Gods were insanely popular. Dionysus' line of wines sold out in seconds and were rumored to contain ambrosia. It was also exceedingly common for mortals to find themselves in the Underworld after drinking too much of the nectar. 

Aphrodite's couture gowns were so coveted, a girl killed for one just a few months ago. There was a trial and everything. 

Nevernight was no different. It was an elite gambling den where mortals gambled their souls in exchange for wealth. 

"How did you manage to get on the list?" Persephone asked. 

"A guy at my internship can't make it. He's been on the waiting list for two years. Can you believe how lucky? You. Me. Nevernight. Tonight!"

"I can't go." 

Lexa's shoulders fell. "Come on, Persephone. I got us into Nevernight! I don't want to go alone!"

"Take Iris."

"I want to take you. We're supposed to be celebrating. Besides, this is part of your college experience!"

Persephone was pretty sure Demeter would disagree. She had promised her mother several things before coming to New Athens to attend university, among them that she would stay away from the gods. 

Granted, she hadn't kept many of her promises. She'd changed her major halfway through her first semester from botany to journalism. She would never forget her mother's tight smile or the way she'd said, "how nice" between gritted teeth. Persephone had won the battle, but Demeter declared war. The day after, everywhere she went, one of Demeter's nymphs went, too. 

Still, majoring in botany was not as important as staying away from the gods because the gods didn't know Persephone existed. 

Well, they knew Demeter had a daughter, but like most children of the gods, she had never been introduced at court in New Olympia. They definitely didn't know she was masquerading as a mortal. Persephone wasn't sure how the gods would react to discovering her, but she knew how the entire world would react, and it wouldn't be good. They would have a new God to learn and to scrutinize. She wouldn't be able to exist—she would lose the freedom she had just gained, and she wasn't interested in that. 

Persephone didn't often agree with her mother, but even she knew it was best she lead a normal, mortal life. 

Persephone wasn't like other gods and goddesses. She knew it and Demeter knew it. 

"I really need to study and write a paper, Lexa. Plus, I start my internship tomorrow." 

She was determined to make a good impression, and showing up hungover or sleep-deprived on her first day wasn't the way to go about it.

"You've studied!" Lexa indicated to my laptop and stack of notes on the table. But what Persephone had really been doing is studying a flower and thinking about the God of the Dead. "And we both know you've already written that paper, you're just a perfectionist." 

Persephone's cheeks flushed. So what if it was true? School was the first and only thing she was good at. 

"Please, Persephone! We'll leave early so you can get to bed."

"What am I going to do at Nevernight, Lex?" 

"Dance! Drink! Kiss! Maybe gamble a little? I don't know, but isn't that the fun of it?"

Persephone blushed again and looked away. The narcissus seemed to glare back at her, reflecting all of her failures. She had never kissed a boy. She had never been around men until she'd come to college, and even then, she kept her distance, mostly out of fear her mother would materialize and smite them. 

That was not an exaggeration. Demeter had always warned her against men—well, mainly gods.  
"You are two things to gods," she'd told Persephone when she was very young. "A power-play or a play-thing." 

"Surely you are wrong, mother. gods love. There are several who are married."

Demeter had laughed. "gods marry for power, my flower."

And, as Persephone had gotten older, she had come to realize that what her mother said was true. None of the s who were married actually loved each other, and instead spent most of their time cheating on each other and then seeking revenge for the betrayal.

That meant Persephone was going to die a virgin, because Demeter had also made it clear that mortals weren't an option, either. 

"They...age," she'd said in disgust. 

Persephone had decided not to argue with her mother about how age didn't matter if it was true love, because she'd come to realize that it wasn't about Divine or mortal—it was that her mother didn't believe in love. 

Well, not romantic love at least.

"I...don't have anything to wear," Persephone tried weakly. 

"You can borrow anything from my closet. I'll even do your hair and makeup. Please, Persephone."

She pursed her lips, considering. 

She would have to sneak away from the nymphs her mother had planted at their apartment and strengthen her glamour, which would cause problems. Demeter would want to know why Persephone was suddenly in need of more magic., then again, she could blame the extra coverage on her internship. 

Without glamour, Persephone's anonymity would be ruined as there was one obvious characteristic that identified all gods as Divine, and that was their horns. Persephone's were white and spiraled like those of a greater kudu, and while her usual glamour had never failed around mortals, she wasn't so sure it worked for gods. 

"I don't really want to meet Hades," she said at last. 

Those words tasted bitter because they were really a lie. A truer statement would be she was nervous at the prospect of running into him. She seriously doubted the god would look twice at her, so she wouldn't have to worry about actually meeting him. Still, she couldn't imagine being in the presence of such a god. He was one of the three most powerful gods in existence—equal to his brothers Zeus and Poseidon—and the most feared. 

Persephone had never met any of her mother's peers, but Demeter was one of the Olympian gods, and she was beautiful and terrifying and powerful. Hades would be the same except darker, tempting. 

Tempting because he was a mystery. 

And mysteries were adventures. 

No one really knew what Hades looked like, and the face he presented to mortals was not the face of the true god. 

Persephone shivered at the thought. 

"Hades won't be there," Lexa said. "Gods never run their own businesses!"

That was true, and probably truer of Hades. It was well-known that he preferred the dark gloom of the Underworld. 

Lexa stared at Persephone for a long moment and then leaned across the table again.  
"Is this about your Mom?" She asked in a low voice. 

Persephone stared at her friend for a moment, surprised. She didn't talk about her mom. She figured the quieter she was about her, the fewer questions she'd have to answer, and at this point she'd have to make up all the answers because no one knew she was Demeter's daughter.  
"How did you know?" Was the only thing Persephone could think to ask.

Lexa shrugged. "Well, you never talk about her and she came by the apartment a couple weeks ago while you were in class."

"What?" Persephone's mouth dropped open. This was the first time she had heard of this visit. "What did she say? Why didn't you tell me?"

Lexa puts up her hands. "Okay, first, your Mom is scary. I mean, she's gorgeous just like you, but," Lexa pauses to shiver. "Cold. Second, she told me not to tell you."

"And you listened to her?"

"Well, yeah. I sorta thought she would tell you. She said she hoped to surprise you, but since you weren't home, she'd just call."

Persephone rolled her eyes. Demeter had never called her. That was likely because she'd been there looking for something. 

"Did she come into our apartment?"

"She asked to see your room."

"Dammit." Persephone was going to have to check the mirrors. It was possible her mother had left an enchantment so she could check up on the Goddess. 

"Anyway. I got the sense that she's...over-protective."

That was the understatement of the year. Demeter was over-protective to the point that Persephone had virtually no contact with the outside world for eighteen years of her life. 

"Yeah, she's a bitch." 

Lexa raised her brows, looking amused. 

"Your words, not mine," she paused and then hedges. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No," she said. Talking about it wouldn't make Persephone feel any better—but a trip to Nevernight might. She smiled. "But I'll go with you tonight."

She'd probably regret the decision tomorrow, especially if her mom found out, but right now, she was feeling rebellious and what better way to rebel than going to the club of her mother's least favorite god? 

"Really?" Lexa clapped her hands. "Oh, my gods, we'll have so much fun, Persephone!" Lexa jumped to her feet. "We have to start getting ready!"

"It's only three."

"Uh, yeah," Lexa pulled at her long, dark hair. "This hair is gross. Plus, it takes forever to style and now I have to do your hair and makeup, too. We need to start now!" 

Persephone didn't make any move to leave. 

"I'll catch up with you in a moment," she said. "Promise."

Lexa smiled. "Thank you, Persephone. This will be great. You'll see."

Lexa hugged her before practically dancing down the street. 

Persephone smiled, watching Lexa go. At that moment, the waitress from earlier returned and reached to take Persephone's mug away. The goddess's hand shot out, holding the girl's wrist tight. 

"If you report to my mother anything but what I tell you, I will kill you."

It was the same girl from earlier with her cute braids and dark eyes, but it was a glamour. 

Beneath the young college girl façade, a nymph's features rang true—small nose, vibrant eyes and angled features. Persephone had noticed earlier when the girl had delivered her drink, but hadn't felt the need to call her out. She was just doing what Demeter told her to do—spying. But after the conversation with Lexa, Persephone wasn't taking any chances. 

The girl cleared her throat and didn't meet Persephone gaze. "If your mother discovers I lied, she'll kill me."

"Who do you fear most?" Persephone had learned long ago that words were her most powerful weapon. 

Her tightened her hold on girl's wrist before releasing her. The nymph cleaned up quickly and ran away. Persephone had to admit, she felt bad for the threat, but she hated being watched and she hated being followed. The nymphs were like Demeter's claws, and they were lodged in Persephone's skin. 

Her eyes fell to the dying narcissus and she brushed the wilted petal. 

At Demeter's touch, it would have swelled with life. 

But at Persephone's touch, it curled and crumbled. 

Persephone might be the Goddess of Spring, but she couldn't grow a damn thing.


	2. Nevernight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

Nevernight was a slender obsidian pyramid with no windows. It was taller than the bright buildings around it, and from a distance, looked like a disruption in the fabric of the city. The tower could be seen from anywhere in New Athens. It was almost like a dark cloud that loomed over the city. Demeter believed and often said, that the only reason Hades built the tower so tall was to remind mortals of their finite life. 

Persephone was beginning to grow anxious the longer she stood in the shadow of Hades' club. Lexa had gone to talk to a couple girls she recognized from school up the line, leaving her to hold their place alone. She was out of her element, surrounded by strangers, preparing to enter another god's territory, and wearing a sexy yet revealing dress. She found herself folding and unfolding her arms, unable to decide if she wanted to hide the low cut of the dress or embrace it. She'd borrowed the pink sparkly number from Lexa who was far less shapely. Her hair fell in loose curls around her face, and she'd finished the look with natural make, accentuating her wide eyes with liner. 

If her mother saw her now, she'd have a fit. 

That thought sent her stomach into a spiral. She looked around, wondering if Demeter's spies were about. Had her threat to the waitress at The Coffee House been enough to keep the girl silent about her plans with Lexa? Since she'd told her best friend she'd come tonight, she'd considered how Demeter might punish her if she were caught. She'd definitely turn her into a plant and imprison her in the glass greenhouse she'd called home for eighteen years. 

"Oh, my gods!" Lexa was a vision in red, and eyes tracked her as she returned to Persephone's side. "Isn't it gorgeous?"

Persephone almost laughed. She wasn't as impressed with the grandeur of the gods. She felt that if they could flaunt their wealth, immortality and power, the least they could do was help. Instead, the gods spent their time pitting mortal against mortal and destroy and reform the world for fun. 

Persephone looked up at the tower again and frowned. "Black's not really my color."

"You'll sing a different tune when you set you lay eyes on Hades," Lexa said. 

Persephone glared at her roommate. "You told me he wasn't here!" 

Lexa placed her hands on Persephone's shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Persephone. Don't get me wrong, you're hot and all, but...what are the actual odds you'll catch Hades' attention? This place is packed." 

Lexa had a point—and yet, what if her glamour failed? Her horns would catch Hades' attention. There was no way he'd pass up the chance to confront another god on his premises, especially one he's never met. 

Persephone's stomach knotted, and she fidgeted with her hair and smoothed her dress. She wasn't aware that Lexa was watching her until she said, "You know, you can just be honest and admit you'd like to meet him."

Persephone's laughter was shaky. "I don't want to meet Hades." 

Lexa gave her a knowing look, but before her best friend could say anything, Shouts came from the front of the line. Persephone peeked around to get a look at what was going on. A man tried to take a swing at a large bouncer guarding the entrance to the club. It was a terrible idea. The mortal couldn't have any idea that he'd just tried to hit an ogre. Of course, Hades employed the creatures to guard his fortress. They were notoriously ruthless and brutal. The ogre didn't even blink as his hand closed down on the man's wrist. Out of the shadows, two more ogres emerged. They were large and dressed in black. They grabbed the man and dragged him away, down the sidewalk. "No! Wait! Please! I just want—I just need her back!" 

It was a long while before Persephone could no longer hear his voice. 

Beside her, Lexa sighed. "There's always one."

Persephone looked at her, questioningly. She shrugged. "What? There's always a story in the Divine about some mortal trying to break into the Underworld to rescue their loved ones."  
There were few things that rivaled Lexa's obsession with the gods—except maybe fashion.

"But that's impossible."

Everyone knew Hades was notorious for enforcing the borders of his realm—no soul in and no soul out without his knowledge. 

Persephone had a feeling it was the same for his club. 

And that thought sent shivers down her spine. 

"Doesn't keep people from trying," Lexa said. 

When she and Lexa came under the gaze of the bouncer, Persephone felt exposed. One glance at the creature's beady eyes, and she almost called it quits there. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to avoid looking at the creature's misshapen face for too long. It was covered in boils and it had an underbite that exposed razor sharp, yellow teeth. She wasn't worried if the creature could see through her glamour. Her mother's magic surpassed that of the ogres. Of course, to Lexa, the monster looked just like an insanely beefy man with small eyes and a bald head who was overly-interested in them. 

It wasn't because he found them attractive. It was because he was hungry. 

Lexa gave her name, and the ogre paused as he spoke into a mic. After a moment, he reached forward and pulled open the door to Nevernight.

Persephone was surprised to find that the small spaced they entered was dim and silent and filled with two more ogres. Persephone recognized them from earlier when they'd dragged that man away from the club. 

The ogres raked their gazes over Lexa and Persephone and then asked, "Purses?"

They opened their clutches so the two could check for prohibited materials, including phones and cameras. 

A rule of Nevernight was that photos were prohibited. In fact, Hades had this rule for any event he attended. The god was notoriously private. He hadn't even been linked to a lover. Persephone doubted Hades had taken a vow of chastity like Artemis and Athena, and yet he managed to stay out of the public eye.  
She sort of admired that about him.

Once they were cleared, the ogres opened another set of doors. Lexa grabbed Persephone's hand and pulled her through. A blast of cool cool air hit her, carrying the scent of spirits, sweat, and something akin to bitter oranges. Narcissus, Persephone recognized the scent from her childhood studies of plants. The Goddess of Spring found herself on a balcony overlooking the floor of the club. There were people everywhere--crowded around tables playing cards and drinking, at the bar shoulder to shoulder, their silhouettes ignited by a red backlight. Several plush booths were arranged in cozy settings and packed with people, but it was the center of the club that drew Persephone's attention. A sunken dance floor held bodies like water in a basin. People move against each other in a mesmerizing rhythm under a stream of red light. Overhead, the ceiling was lined with crystal and wrought-iron chandeliers. 

"Come on!" Lexa pulled Persephone down a set of stairs that led to the ground floor. She held on tight to Lexa's hand, afraid she would lose her as they wove through the crowd. It took her a moment to figure out which direction her friend was going, but they soon found themselves at the bar. They squeezed into a space only big enough for one person. 

"Two manhattans," Lexa ordered. Just as she reached for her clutch, an arm snaked between them and threw down a few dollars. 

A voice followed, "Drinks on me."

Lexa and Persephone turned to find a man standing behind them. He had a jawline as sharp as a diamond and a head of thick, curly hair. It was as dark as his eyes, and skin was a beautiful, burnished brown. He was one of the most handsome men Persephone had ever seen. 

"Thanks," Lexa breathed. 

"No problem," he said, flashing a set of pretty, white teeth—a welcome sight compared to the ogre's grisly fangs. 

"First time at Nevernight?" Lexa answered quickly, "Yes. You?"

"Oh...I'm a regular here," he said.

Persephone glanced at Lexa, who blurted exactly what Persephone was thinking. 

"How?"The man offered a warm laugh. 

"Just lucky, I guess," he said and extended his hand. 

"Adonis." He shook Lexa's hand and then Persephone's. 

"Would you like to join my table?" Adonis asked.

"Sure," they said in unison, feeling giddy. 

With their drinks in hand, Persephone and Lexa follow Adonis to one of the booths Persephone had seen from the balcony. Each area had two crescent-snapped booths with a table between them. There were already several people there—six guys and five girls—but they shifted so Lexa and Persephone could have a seat. 

"All, this is Lexa and Persephone." Adonis pointed to his group of friends, saying names, but Persephone only caught those who were closest to her—Aro, Xeres, and Sybil. Aro and Xeres looked like siblings. They both had ginger hair, a spray of freckles, pretty blue eyes, and the same, willow-thin body. She soon found out they were twins. Sybil was blond and beautiful. She had long legs and wore a simple white dress. She sat between the twins and leaned over Aro as she spoke to them. 

"Where are you all from?" She asked. 

"Ionia," Lexa said. 

"Olympia," Persephone said. 

The girl's eyes widened. "You lived in Olympia? I bet it was beautiful!"

Persephone had lived far, far away from the city proper in her mother's glass greenhouse and hadn't seen much of Olympia. It was one of the most popular tourist destinations in New Greece. It was where the gods held Council and many had sprawling estates there, and when they were away, many were open to tour. 

"It was beautiful," Persephone said. "But New Athens is beautiful, too. I...didn't really have much freedom there."

Sybil seemed to understand. "Parents?"

Persephone nodded without explaining. She learned the boys and Sybil were from New Delphi and also attended New Athens University like she and Lexa. 

"What are you studying?" Persephone asked. 

"Architecture," the boys said in unison, which meant they were in the College of Hestia. 

"I'm in the College if the Divine." Sybil said. 

"Sybil is an Oracle," Aro said, pointing to her with his thumb. The girl blushed and averted her eyes. 

"That means you will serve a god!" Lexa said, eyes wide.Oracles were coveted positions among mortals, and to become one, they had to be born with certain prophetic gifts. Oracles served as messengers from the gods. In ancient times, that meant serving in temples. Now it meant serving as their press manager. Oracles gave statements and managed press circuits, especially when a god had something prophetic to communicate.

"Apollo's already got his eye on her," said Xeres. 

Sybil rolled her eyes. "It's not as wonderful as it sounds. My family was not happy."

Sybil didn't need to say it for Persephone to understand. Her parents were what the faithful and the god-fearing called Impious. The Impious were a group of mortals who rejected the gods when they came to Earth. Having already felt abandoned by them, they were not eager to obey. There was a revolt and two sides were born. Even the gods who supported the Impious used mortals like puppets, dragging them across battlefields. There was destruction and chaos reigned. After a year of fighting, the battle was over. The gods had promised a new life, something better than Elysium (apparently, Hades didn't like that too well), but the gods delivered--they threaded together continents and dubbed the new landmass New Greece, splicing it into territories with great, gleaming cities.

"My parents would have been ecstatic," Lexa said. 

Persephone met Sybil's gaze. "I'm sorry." 

She shrugged. "It's better now that I'm here." 

The goddess got the feeling that she and Sybil had a lot in common when it came to their parents. Several shots later, the conversation lasted into hilarious stories of the trio's friendship and Persephone became distracted by her surroundings. She noticed small details now like strands of tiny lights overhead that looked like stars in the dark above, single-stemmed narcissus on the tables at each booth, and the wrought-iron rails of the second story balcony where a lone figure loomed. 

That's where her gaze stayed, meeting a pair of shadowy eyes. Had she thought earlier that Adonis was the most handsome man she'd ever seen? She'd been wrong. This man was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. She could not tell the color of his eyes, but they ignited a fire under her skin, and it was like he knew because his full lips curve into a harsh smile, drawing attention to his strong jaw, covered in a well-manicured beard. god, well over six and a half feet tall and polished, though she sensed and saw darkness in him—from his inky hair to his black suit. 

He lifted a glass to his lips and sipped, maintaining eye contact. Her throat was suddenly dry. She shifted, crossing her legs and instantly regretted the move, because the man's gaze fell there and held for a moment before sliding back up her frame, snagging on her curves. Suddenly she was far too aware of how empty she felt and the burning need to be filled up. 

Her breath caught in her throat. Who was this man, and how could she possibly feel this way about a stranger? She needed to break this connection that had created this tangible, suffocating energy between them. 

All it took was seeing a pair of delicate hands slip around the man's waist. She didn't wait to see the woman's face. She turned toward Lexa and cleared her throat. The group had moved on to talking about the Pentathlon—an annual athleticism competition with five different sporting events, including a long jump, javelin throw, discus throw, a wrestling match, and a series of short races. It was hugely popular, and the cities of New Greece were very competitive. 

Persephone wasn't really a sports fan, but she did love the spirit of the Pentathlon, and enjoyed cheering for New Athens in the tournament. She tried to follow the conversation, but her body charged and her mind on other things—like how it would feel to be taken by the man on the balcony. He could fill this emptiness, stroke this fire, end her suffering. 

Except that he was obviously taken—and if not taken, otherwise engaged with another woman.

She wanted to look over her shoulder and see if the man still stood on the balcony, and she resisted for a while until her curiosity won out. 

She hated how disappointed she felt when she discovered the balcony was empty. She craned her neck, searching, though she knew in the back of her mind that if he were here, she'd find him. 

"Looking for Hades?" Adonis joked, and Persephone's gaze snapped to his. 

"Oh, no—" "I heard he was here tonight," Lexa interrupted. 

Adonis laughed. "Yeah, he's usually upstairs."

"What's upstairs?" Persephone asked. 

"A lounge. It's quieter. More intimate. I guess he prefers the peace when he's negotiating."

Persephone shivered. 

"Are we allowed up there?" Lexa asked. 

"If you're given the password," he said. 

"How do you get the password?" Persephone asked. 

Adonis shrugged. "Hell if I know. I don't come here to bargain with the God of the Dead." 

Though she had no desire to meet the God of the Dead, she did wonder how people came by the password to the room upstairs. Was it like judgement after death? Did mortals offer their case to god who then deemed their wager worthy? 

"Persephone, bathroom," Lexa said and stood, grabbing Persephone's free hand. She dragged her across the crowded floor to the restroom. They waited at the end of a long line. Lexa turned to chat about Adonis. 

"Have you seen a more attractive male?" She asked dreamily. 

Persephone would have liked to inform her that while she was ogling Adonis, she'd missed the man who deserved the term. Instead, she said, "You're smitten."

"I'm in love," she said. 

Persephone rolled her eyes. "You can't be in love, you just met him!"

"Okay, maybe not love," she said. "But if he asked me to carry his babies, I'd agree."

"You are ridiculous."

"Just honest," she said, grinning. Then she looked at Persephone seriously and said, "It's okay to be vulnerable, you know?"

"What do you mean?" Persephone's question was more curt than she intended. 

She shrugged and then said. "Nevermind."

Persephone wanted to ask Lexa to elaborate. What had she meant about being vulnerable? But before she could, a stall opened up and Lexa left. Persephone waited, sorting through her thoughts, trying to figure out what Lexa might have been talking about when another stall opened up. 

After Persephone used the restroom, she looked for Lexa, expecting her to be waiting, but couldn't find her. After a moment, she met the gaze of a beautiful woman with blond hair. 

"She went up," she said. 

"Lexa?" The girl shrugged. 

"Girl with dark hair? White dress?" 

She nodded. 

"Up." 

Persephone's gaze wandered toward the balcony where Hades' supposedly made his deals. She wondered if the man she'd seen earlier was up there somewhere. Was he here to make a deal with Hades? Or had he disappeared into the shadows with that woman? 

"Have you been up?" The blonde asked. 

"Oh, no, I haven't," Persephone said. 

She started to turn away when the women said. "I can give you the password." 

Persephone met the woman's gaze. 

"How did you get the password?" 

The woman shrugged. "Here and there," she answered and paused. "So?"

Well, since Lexa was up there.... "What's the password?" 

The woman chuckled. 

"Pathos," she said. Pathos meant tragedy. Persephone found it horribly ominous. "T-thanks," she said to the woman and headed up the spiral steps to the second floor. 

As she topped the stairs, she found nothing but a set of dark doors embellished with gold and a woman—a gorgon to be exact. Her face was badly scared—evident, even with the white blindfold covering her eyes. Like others of her kind, she had once had snakes in place of hair. Now, a white, hooded cloak covered her head and hid her body. As Persephone approached, she noted the walls were reflective, and she caught herself in the surface, noting the blush of her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes. Her glamour had weakened since she'd been here. She hoped if anyone noticed, she could blame it on the excitement and the alcohol. The gorgon lifted her head, but did not speak. Persephone wasn't sure why she felt so nervous. Maybe it was because she didn't know what to expect beyond those doors. She came to a stop before the gorgon. For a moment, there was silence, and then she heard the creature inhale and she froze. 

"Divine," the gorgon purred. 

"Excuse me?" Persephone asked. 

"Goddess," the gorgon said. 

"You are mistaken," Persephone said. 

The gorgon laughed. "I may have no eyes, but I know a god when I smell one. What hope have you of entering?"

"You are bold for a creature who knows they speak with a goddess," Persephone said. 

The gorgon smiled. "Only a goddess when it serves you?"

"Pathos!" Persephone snapped. 

The gorgon's smiled remained, and she opened the door. "Enjoy, my lady."

Persephone glared at the monster as she entered a smaller, smoky room. Unlike the main floor of the club, this space was intimate and quiet. Overhead, there was a single, large chandelier that provided enough light to ignite tables and faces, but not much else. There were several clusters of people gathered playing cards, and none of them seemed to notice her. When the door clicked shut behind her, she started to explore, looking for Lexa, but found herself distracted by the people and the games. She watched as graceful hands dispensed cards and listened as the players at the table exchanged banter back and forth. Then she came to an oval table where the occupants were leaving. She wasn't sure what drew her to it, but she decided to sit. 

The dealer nodded. "Madam," he said. 

"Do you play?" A voice asked from behind her. It was a deep rumble she felt in her chest. She turned and found the man from the balcony. Her blood heated to an impossible level, making her hot all over. She squeezed her crossed legs together and clenched her hands into fists to keep from fidgeting under his gaze. 

Up close she was able to fill in a few gaps in her earlier assessment of his appearance. He was beautiful in a dark way—in a way that promised heartbreak. His eyes were the color of obsidian and framed by thick lashes. His hair was pulled into a bun at the back of his head. She had been right that he was tall. She had to tip her head back just to meet his gaze. 

When Persephone's chest started to ache, she realized she had been holding her breath since the man approached. Slowly, she drew in air—with it, the smell of him—smoke and spice and winter air. It filled every empty place inside her. As she stared, he took a sip from his glass like'd done earlier, licking his lips clean. He was sin incarnate. She could feel it in the way her body responded to his--and she didn't want him to know. So she smiled and said, "If you are willing to teach."

His lips quirked, and he raised a dark brow. He took another drink, then approached the table, taking a seat beside her. 

"It's brave to sit down at a table without knowing the game."

She met the man's gaze. "How else would I learn?"

"Hmm." He considered, and Persephone decided that she loved his voice. "Clever."

The man stared like he was trying to place her, and she shivered. "I have never seen you before." 

"Well, I have never been here before," she said and paused. "You must come here often."

His lips quirked. "I do." 

"Why?" she asked. The question surprised him and her—she hadn't actually meant to say that out loud. 

"I mean—you don't have to answer that."

"I will answer it," he said. "If you will answer a question for me."

She stared at him for a long moment, and then nodded. "Fine." 

"I come because it is...fun," he said. "Now you—why are you here tonight?"

"My friend Lexa was on the list," she said. 

"No," he said. "That is the answer to a different question. Why are you here tonight?"

She considered this for a moment, and then said. "It seemed rebellious at the time."

"And now you aren't so sure?"

"Oh, I am sure it is rebellious," Persephone said, she dragged her finger along the surface of the table. "I'm just not sure how I'll feel about it tomorrow."

"Who are you rebelling again?"

She looked at him and smiled. "You said one question."

His smile matched hers and it made her heart beat harder in her chest. "So I did."

Staring back at those endless eyes, she felt he could see her—not the glamour or even her skin and bones, but the core of her, and it made her shiver. 

"Are you cold?" he asked. 

"What?"

"You've been shivering a lot since you sat down," he observed. She felt her face redden and suddenly she blurted, "Who was that woman with you earlier?"

He looked confused for a moment and then said, "Oh, Minthe. She's always putting her hands where they don't belong." 

Persephone paled. "I...think I should go."

He stopped her with a hand on hers. His touch was electric, and she gasped at the contact, and pulled away quickly. 

"No," he said, almost commanding and Persephone glared at him. 

"Excuse me?"

"What I mean to say is, I haven't taught you how to play yet," he said. His eyes burned and his voice lowered. "Allow me."

His voice was mesmerizing, and she relaxed. 

"Then teach me."

His eyes burned into her before falling to the cards. He shuffled them, explaining, "This is poker." She noted that he had graceful hands and long fingers. Did he play piano? 

"We will play five-card draw and we'll start with a bet."

Persephone looked down at herself—she hadn't brought her clutch, but the man was quick to say, "A question answered, then. If I win, you will answer any question I pose, and if you win, I will answer yours."

Persephone grimaced. She knew what he was going to ask, but answering questions was far better than losing all her money and her soul, so she said, "Deal." 

Those sensual lips curled into a smile, which deepened lines on his face that only made him look more attractive. Who was this man? She guessed she could ask his name, but she wasn't interested in making friends at Nevernight. The man explained that, in poker, there were ten different rankings, the lowest being the high card and the highest being the royal flush. The goal was to draw a higher rank than the other player. He explained other things, like checking, folding, and bluffing.

"Bluffing?"

"Sometimes, poker is just a game of deception."

She considered this for a moment, as gods could not lie, but recalled words from her mother. 'Just because the Divine cannot lie, does not make them pious. One may mislead and not lie.' 

He dealt each of them five cards. Persephone looked at her hand and tried to remember what Hades had said about the different ranks. She laid her cards down, face up and the man did the same. "You have a pair of queens," he said. "And I have a full house." 

"So...you won," she said. "Yes," he replied, and then claimed his prize immediately. 

"Who are you rebelling against?" She smiled wryly. "My mother."

He raised a brow. "Why?"

"You'll have to win another hand if I'm going to answer."

So, he dealt another and won again. This time, he didn't ask the question, just looked at her expectantly. 

She sighed. "Because...she made me mad." He stared at her, waiting, and she smiled. "You never said the answer had to be detailed."

His grin matched hers. "Noted for the future, I assure you."

"The future?"

"Well, I hope this isn't the last time we'll play poker." Butterflies erupted in her stomach. She should tell him this was the first and final time she would come to Nevernight. He dealt again and won. Persephone was getting tired of losing and answering this man's questions. Why was he so interested in her anyway? Where was that woman he'd been with earlier?

"Why are you angry with your mother?" She considered this question for a moment, and then said, "Because...she wants me to be something I cannot." 

Persephone dropped her gaze to the cards, and then said, "I don't understand why people do this." He tilted his head, as if questioning. 

"You are not enjoying our game?"

"I am," she said. "But...I don't understand why people play Hades. Why do they want to sell their soul to him?"

"They don't agree to a game because they want to sell their soul," he said. "They do it because they think they can win."

"Do they? Win?"

"Sometimes."

"Does that anger him, you think?" 

The question was meant to remain a thought in her head, and yet the words slipped out between her lips. He smirked, and she could feel it deep in her gut. 

"Darling, I win either way."

Her eyes went wide, and her heart stuttered. She stood quickly and his name slipped out of her mouth like a curse. 

"Hades." His name on her lips seemed to have an affect on him, but she couldn't tell if it was good or bad—his eyes darkened, and the lines of his face disappeared in a hard mask. "I have to go." 

She spun and left the small room. This time, she didn't let him stop her. She hurried down the winding steps and plunged into the mass of bodies on the main floor. All the while, she was highly aware of the spot on her wrist where Hades fingers had touched her skin. Was it an exaggeration to say it burned? It took her a while to find the exit, and when she did, she pushed through the doors. 

Once outside, she took a few deep, cleansing breaths and then let the force of what she'd done hit her. She'd allowed Hades, the God of the Underworld to instruct her, to touch her, play her and question her. 

And he had won. 

That wasn't the worst part. No, the worst part is that there was a part of her that wanted to run back inside, find him, and demand a lesson in the anatomy of his body.


	3. New Athens News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

Persephone checked the mirror to ensure her glamour was in place. It was weak magic because it was borrowed magic, but it was enough to hide her horns and turn her bottle-green eyes mossy.

She reached up to apply a touch more glamour to her eyes. They were the hardest to get right, and it took the most magic to dull their bright, abnormal light. As she lifted her hand, she halted, noticing something on her wrist.

Something dark.

She took a closer look. A series of black dots marked her skin, some smaller, others larger. It looked like a simple, elegant tattoo had been inked on her arm.

And it was wrong.

Persephone turned the faucet on and scrubbed her skin until it was red and raw, but the ink didn't move or smear. In fact, it seemed to darken.

Then she remembered yesterday at Nevernight when Hades hand had covered hers to keep in her place as she tried to leave. The warmth of his skin transferred to hers, but when she fled the club later, that warmth turned to a burn which only intensified as she went to bed that night.

She'd turned on the light several times to inspect her wrist, but found nothing.

Until this morning.

Persephone lifted her gaze to the mirror and her glamour rippled from her anger, her eyes flashing bright. Why had she obeyed his request to stay? Why had she been blind to the fact that she had invited the God of the Dead to teach her cards?

She knew why. She'd been distracted by his beauty. Why hadn't anyone warned her that Hades was a charming bastard? That his smile stole breath and his gaze stopped hearts?

What was this thing on her wrist and what did it mean?

She knew one thing for certain: Hades was going to tell her. Today.

But that meant she'd have to return to Nevernight, and face Hades again. She would have to stand under that dark, fire-like gaze. Something stirred inside her. It felt like the fingers of the first frost suffocating spring. She couldn't place it, but she shivered.

Before she could return to the obsidian tower, however, she had to go to her internship. Her eyes fell to a pretty embellished box her mother had given her when she was twelve years old. It held jewelry now, but at twelve, it had held five gold seeds. Demeter had crafted them from her magic, and had said they would bloom into roses the color of liquid gold for her, the Goddess of Spring.

Persephone planted them and did her best to nurture the flowers, but instead of growing into the blossoms she expected, they grew withered and black.

She would never forget the look on her mother's face when she found her staring at the wilted roses—shock, disappointment, and in disbelief that her daughter's flowers grew from the ground like something straight out of the underworld.

Demeter had reached forward, touched the flowers, and they flared with life.

Persephone never touched them again, and avoided that part of the greenhouse.

Looking at the box, the mark on her skin burned hotter, a reminder of another failure to please her mother. She searched through the box until she found a bracelet big enough to cover her wrist. It would have to do until Hades removed it.

As Persephone moved back into her room, her mother appeared in front of her. Persephone jumped.

"By the gods, mother! Can you at least use the door like a normal parent? And knock?"

The Goddess of Harvest was beautiful and didn't bother to glamour up to hide her long, slender horns. Her hair was blonde like Persephone's, but straight and long. She had creamy skin and her high cheekbones were naturally rosy like her lips. Demeter lifted her pointed chin, assessing Persephone with critical eyes--eyes that changed from brown to green to gold.

"Nonsense," she said, taking Persephone's chin between her thumb and forefinger, applying more magic. Persephone knew what she was doing without looking in the mirror—covering her freckles, brightening the color in her cheeks, and straightening her wavy hair. Demeter liked when Persephone resembled her, and Persephone preferred to look as little like her mother as possible.

"You might be playing mortal, but you can still look immortal," she said.

Persephone rolled her eyes. Her appearance was just another way she disappointed her mother.

"There!" Demeter finally exclaimed, releasing her chin. "Beautiful."

Persephone looked in the mirror. She had been right—Demeter had covered up everything Persephone liked about herself.

Still, she managed a forced, "Thank you, mother."

"It was nothing, my flower." Demeter patted her cheek. "So, tell me about this...job."

The word sounded like a curse coming from Demeter's lips. Persephone ground her teeth together. She was surprised by how fast and furious the anger tore through her.

"It's an internship, mother. If I do well, I might have a job when I graduate."

Demeter frowned. "Dear, you know you do not have to work."

"So you say," she muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" Demeter asked.

Persephone turned to her mother and said louder. "I want to do this, mother. I'm good at it."

"You are good at so many things, Kore," she said.

"Don't call me that!" Persephone snapped. Her mother's eyes flashed. She'd seen that look right before Demeter thrashed one of her nymphs for letting her wander out of sight.

Persephone shouldn't have gotten angry, but she couldn't help it. She hated that name. It was her childhood nickname, and it meant exactly that—maiden. The word was like a prison, but worse than that, she was aware that if she stepped too far out of line, the bars of her prison would only solidify. She was the magic-less daughter of an Olympian. Not only that, she borrowed her mother's magic. If anything, that was a tether that meant obeying her mother was even more important. Without Demeter's glamour, Persephone couldn't live in the mortal world anonymously.

"Sorry, mother," she managed, but she didn't look at the goddess as she spoke. Not because she was embarrassed, but because she really didn't mean the apology.

"Oh, my flower. I don't blame you," she said, placing her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "It's this mortal world. It's creating a divide between us."

"Mother, you are being ridiculous," Persephone said and sighed, placing her hands on either side of her face, and when she spoke again, she meant every word. "You are all I have."

Demeter smiled, holding her daughter's wrists. Hades' mark burned. She leaned in a little, as if to kiss Persephone's cheek. Instead, she said, "Remember that." And was gone.

Persephone released her breath and her body withered. Even when she had nothing to hide, dealing with her mother was exhausting. She was constantly on edge, preparing for what she would find unacceptable next. Overtime, Persephone thought she had hardened herself against her mother's unwanted words, but sometimes they pierced her.

She finished getting ready, choosing a pretty, light pink dress with ruffled sleeves. She pair it with a white wedge shoe and white handbag. On the way out, she stopped to check her reflection in the mirror, pulling glamour from her hair and face, returning her curls and freckles.

She smiled, recognizing herself once again.

She headed out. Persephone didn't have a car and she didn't have the ability to teleport like other gods, so she either walked or took the bus when she needed to get around New Athens. Today, the sun was out and warm so she decided to walk.

Persephone loved the city because it was so unlike what she's grown up with. Here, there were mirrored skyscrapers that sparkled under Helios' warm rays. There were museums filled with histories Persephone had only learned when she moved here. There were buildings that looked like art, and sculptures and fountains on almost every block. Even with all of the stone and glass and metal, there were acres of parks with lush gardens and trees where Persephone had spent many evenings walking. The fresh air reminded her she was free.

She inhaled now, trying to ease her anxiety. Instead, it traveled to her stomach where it knotted, made worse by the inked bracelet around her wrist. She had to get rid of it before Demeter saw it or her few years of freedom would turn into a lifetime in a glass box.

It was usually that fear that kept Persephone cautious.

Except for last night—last night, she'd felt rebellious and despite this strange mark on her skin she'd found Nevernight and it's King thrilling.

She wished that weren't so--she wished she'd found Hades repulsive.

She wished she hadn't spent last night recalling how his dark eyes had trailed her body, how she'd had to kip her head back just to meet his gaze, how his graceful hands had shuffled the cards.

She wondered how those long fingers would feel against her skin—heat against heat. How it would feel to be lifted into his strong arms and carried away?

After last night, she wanted things she had never wanted before. Soon, her anxiety was replaced with a fire so unfamiliar and so intense, she thought she might turn to ash.

Gods. Why was she thinking like this?

It was one thing to find the God of the Dead attractive, another thing to...desire him. There was absolutely no way anything could happen between them. Her mother hated Hades, and she knew without asking that a relationship between them was forbidden. She also knew that she needed her mother's magic more than she needed to quench this fire roaring inside her.

She neared the Acropolis, it's dazzling, mirror surface almost blinding her. She made her way up the short flight of steps to the gold and glass doors. The lower level of the floor had a row of turnstiles and security guards—necessary for the businesses located in the high rise. Among them, Zeus's advertising company, Oak & Eagle Creative. Zeus's admirers were known to wait in crowds outside the Acropolis just for a glimpse of the God of Thunder. Once, a mob had tried to storm the building to reach him, which was sort of ironic considering Zeus was rarely at the Acropolis, and spent most of his time in Olympia.

Zeus's business wasn't the only one in need of security though. New Athens News broke some difficult stories—stories that infuriated gods and mortals alike. Persephone wasn't aware of any retaliation, but as she moved through security, she knew these mortal guards wouldn't be able to stop an angry god from storming the sixtieth floor for revenge.

After security, she found a bank of elevators that took her up to her floor. The doors opened into to a large reception area with the words New Athens News overhead. A curved, glass desk sat beneath it, and a beautiful woman with long, dark curls greeted her with a smile.

"Persephone," she said, coming around the desk. She wore a navy cargo dress with gold zippers. "It's good to see you again." .

The girl's name was Valerie. Persephone remembered her from her interview.

"Let me take you back. Demetri is expecting you."

Valerie directed Persephone to the newsroom, which was beyond the glass partition. There, several metal and glass desks were arranged in perfect lines across the floor. There was a flurry of activity—phones ringing, paper shuffling, keys tapping as writers and editors pounded out their next article. The smell of coffee was strong, like the whole place ran on caffeine and ink. Persephone's heart thudded in her chest with the thrill of it all.

"I saw you were from New Athens University," Valerie said. "When do you graduate?"

"In six months," Persephone chimed. She'd dreamed of the moment she'd walk across that grand stage to receive her degree. It would be the pinnacle of her time among mortals.

"You must be so excited."

"I am," Persephone responded and glanced at Valerie. "How long have you been here?"

"About a year," the girl responded with a smile.

"Do you plan to stay when you graduate?"

"In the building, yes, just a few floors up."

Ah, Zeus's marketing company had sourced her.

Valerie knocked on the open door of an office at the very back of the room. "Demetri, Persephone's here."

"Thanks, Valerie."

The girl turned to Persephone, smiled, and left, allowing room for her to move into view. Her new boss was Demetri Aetos. He was older, but it was clear he had been a heartbreaker in his prime. His hair was short on the sides, longer on top, and flecked with grey. He wore black framed glasses, which gave him a scholarly air. He had what Persephone would consider delicate features—thin lips and a smaller nose. He was tall, but thin. He wore a blue button up, khaki slacks, and a polkadot bowtie.

"Persephone," he said, coming around his desk and stretching out his hand. She took it. "It's good to see you again. We are happy to have you."

"I'm happy to be here, Mr. Aetos," she said.

"Call me Demetri."

"Okay...Demetri," she said, unable to keep the smile off her face.

"Please, sit!" he indicated to a chair in front of his desk. She took a seat and Demetri leaned against his desk, hands in his pockets. "Tell me about yourself."

When Persephone had first moved here, she hated this question, and there was a point when all she could talk about herself in relation to her fears—closed spaces, being trapped, escalators. Overtime, though, she'd had enough experiences, it had become easier.

"Well, I'm a student at New Athens University. I'm majoring in journalism and I'll graduate in May..." she started, and Demetri waved his hand.

"Not what's on your resume." He met her gaze, and she noticed that he had blue eyes. He smiled. "What about you—your hobbies, interests...?"

"Oh," she blushed, thought for a moment and then said, "I like baking."

"Oh? Tell me more."

"It...helps me relax."

"What do you like to bake?"

"Anything really. I've been challenging myself at sugar cookie art."

His brows rose and his smile stayed. "Sugar cookie art, huh? That's a thing?"

"Yes, I'll show you," she pulled out her phone and found a few photos a few photos. Of course, she had only taken pictures of her best cookies.

Demetri looked at the photos. "Oh, nice," he said. "These are great, Persephone."

He met her gaze as he returned her phone.

"Thank you." No one but Lexa had ever told her that.

"So, you like to bake. What else?"

"I like to write," she said. "Stories."

"Stories? Like fiction?"

"Yes."

"Romance?" he guessed. It was what most people assumed, and the blush on Persephone's cheeks wasn't helping her case.

"No, actually. I like horror."

Demetri's brows rose again, almost meeting his hairline. "Unexpected," he said. "I like it. What do you hope to gain from this internship?"

"Adventure," she couldn't help it. The word slipped out, but Demetri seemed pleased.

"Adventure," he said, pushing away from his desk. "If adventure is what you desire, New Athens News can give it to you, Persephone. This position can look like anything you wish—it's yours to craft and manage. If you want to report, you can report. If you want to edit, you can edit. If you want to get coffee, you get coffee."

Persephone only had an interest in getting coffee for herself. She didn't think she could be any more excited, but as Demetri spoke, she had the overwhelming feeling that this internship would change her life.

"I'm sure you know that we find ourselves in the media a lot," he smiled wryly. "Ironic, considering we are a news source."

New Athens News was well-known for the number of lawsuits filed against them. There were always complaints of defamation, slander, and invasion of privacy. Believe it or not, those weren't the worst accusations leveled against the company. Apollo had accused them of being members of Triad, a group of Impious mortals who actively organized against the gods, supporting fairness, freewill, and freedom. The newspaper had denied the claim, of course, as Zeus had declared Triad a terrorist organization, and threatened death to any caught with their propaganda.

What Zeus hadn't anticipated—or perhaps had—was that the Faithful mortals would organize into cults and start a manhunt of their own, killing several who were openly Impious, uncaring if they were associated with Triad or not. It was a horrific time and it took Zeus longer than necessary to come out against the cults. New Athens News said so themselves.

"We seek truth, Persephone," Demetri said. "There's power in truth. Do you want power?"

He didn't even know what he was asking.

"Yes," she said. "I want power."

This time when Demetri smiled, he showed his teeth. "Then you will do well here."

Demetri showed Persephone to her desk, which sat just outside his office. She settled in, checking drawers, noting what supplies she would need to ask for or buy, and stored her purse. A new laptop sat on top. It was cool to the touch, and as she opened it, the dark screen reflected the face of a man. She turned in her chair and met a set of wide, surprised eyes.

"Adonis," she said.

"Persephone." He clutched a cup of coffee in one hand, and wore a lavender button up. He looked just as handsome as he did last night, only more professional. "I had no idea you were our new intern."

"I had no idea you worked here," she said.

"I'm a senior reporter, mostly focused on entertainment," he said rather smugly. "We missed you when you left."

She left Hades' club without telling Lexa and was almost home when she received a call from her worried friend. She'd felt bad, but Persephone hadn't been able to stay in that dark tower any longer, and it would have been unfair to make Lexa come home just because of her mistake.

"Oh, yes, sorry. I wanted to prepare for my first day."

"Not going to fault you for that. Well, welcome."

"Adonis," Demetri called as he stepped back into the doorframe of his office. "Mind giving Persephone here a tour of our floor?"

"Not at all," he said. He looked at Persephone. "Ready?"

Persephone followed Adonis. She was happy to see a familiar face, even if she had just met him last night. It made her feel more comfortable here.

"We call this the workroom. It's where everyone follows leads and investigates," he said. People looked up from their desks and waved or smiled at her as they passed. Adonis indicated to a wall of glassed in rooms. "Interview and conference rooms. Break room. Lounge," he pointed to a huge room with various, casual sitting areas and warm, low light. It was cozy, and there were already several people nesting. "You'll probably prefer to write in here when you get the chance."

Adonis showed her to the supplies closet, and she raided it for pens, sticky notes, and notebooks. As he helped her carry her supplies back to her desk he asked, "So, what do you think you'll work on while you're here?"  
"I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually," she said. "Has anyone here ever written about the God of the Dead?"  
Adonis laughed, and then he stopped himself. "Oh, you're serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. Haven't you heard of the injustices he's committed against mortals?"

Against me,she wanted to say, but didn't.

"You mean his bargains?" Adonis shrugged. "Yeah, but...it's not like he's forcing them. Every single human who's lost to Hades has done so willingly."

"How do you know?"

"Because we get a lot of calls about him."

"And you've never written a single article?"

"No. No one wants to end up in Tartarus, Persephone," he says.

That seemed to contradict what Demetri had to say this morning—that New Athens News always sought truth. To say she was disappointed was an understatement, and Adonis must have noticed. "Look...if you're serious about this, I'll send you what I have on him."

"You'd do that?" She asked.

"Of course," he said with a grin. "On one condition—you let me read the article you write."

"Deal."

Adonis delivered.

Shortly after he returned to his desk, she received an email with notes and voice recordings detailing deals the god had made with several mortals. Not everyone who wrote or called were victims of Hades, some were families of victims whose lives had been cut short due to a lost bargain.

In total, she counted seventy-seven different cases. As she read and listened, a common thread emerged from interviews. All the mortals who'd gone to Hades for help were in desperate need of something—money or health or love. Hades would agree to grant whatever the mortal ask for if they won against him at a game of his choice.

But if they lost, they were at his mercy.

And Hades seemed to delight in offering an impossible challenge.

An hour in, Adonis dropped by to check on her.

"Finding any of it useful?"

"I don't understand. Why does Hades do it? Make these kinds of bargains?"

Adonis shrugged. "Guess he gets off on it. He plays the game, then sets the wager. He'll ask the addict to remain sober, the sex addict to be chaste."

It was like he wanted them to lose.

She wandered how Hades knew these mortals' weaknesses? Did he consult the Fates or possess this power himself? When he'd looked at her so intently, had he merely been tallying her failings so he could use them against her later?

The thought made her even more anxious to confront him about the mark on her wrist.

It also infuriated her.

Hades was the God of the Dead, but he was also The Rich One. He controlled most of the world's wealth and instead of helping people with that money he chose this—a game.

She despised him for it and suddenly she didn't care that Hades was a god. She was Divine, too. Though she had no power of her own, she could write and maybe that made her the perfect person to expose him. After all, if anything happened to her, Hades would feel Demeter's wrath.


	4. The Contract

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

Less than an hour after leaving the Acropolis, Persephone stood outside Nevernight, pounding on the pristine, black door. She'd taken the bus here and it had nearly drove her insane. She couldn't sit still. Adonis' words wound through her mind, stirred up all her fear and anxieties about what the mark on her wrist could mean. Was this ink bracelet an impossible challenge? Was it something that would bind her soul to the Underworld if she failed or refused Hades?

She was about to find out if someone would just answer this damn door!

"Hello!" she called. "Anyone there?"

She continued to pound on the door until her arms hurt. Just when she thought about giving up, the door was yanked open by the ogre who had been staffing it last night. Persephone stumbled into him and quickly pushed away. In the daylight, he was even more gruesome-looking. His thick skin sagged around his neck, and he stared at her with small, squinted eyes.

"What do you want?" His words were a snarl and it wasn't lost on her that he could crush her skull with his hand alone.

"I must speak with Hades," she said.

The ogre stared at her and then slammed the door closed.

That really pissed her off.

She banged on the door again. "Bastard! Let me in!" She yelled.

She'd always known ogres existed, but she'd learned some of their weaknesses by reading a few books from Artemis' Library at school. One of them? They hated being called names.

The ogre tore the door open again and snarled at her, blowing his stinking rot-breath in her face. He probably thought it would scare her away—and it had probably worked on others in the past, but not on Persephone. The mark on her wrist drove her. Her freedom was at stake.

"I demand you let me in!" She stomped her foot, and her fingers curled into her palms. She considered how much space was left in the doorway. Could she get past the huge creature? If she moved quick enough, his girth would probably throw him off balance.

"Who are you, mortal, to demand an audience with the God of the Dead?" The creature said.

"Your Lord has placed a mark upon me, and I will have words with him."

The creature laughed, beady eyes shining with amusement.

"You would have words with him?"

"Yes, me. Let me in!"

She was growing angrier by the second.

"We are not open," the creature responded. "You will have to come back."

"I will not come back, you will let me in now you big, ugly ogre!"

Persephone realized her mistake as soon as the words were out of her mouth. The creature's features changed. He grabbed her by the neck and lifted her off the ground.

"What are you?" he demanded. "A tricky little nymph?"

She clawed at the ogre's steel skin, but he only pressed his meaty fingers deeper into her skin. She couldn't breath and her eyes watered, and the only thing she could do was dropped her glamour. As her horns became visible, the creature released her.

Persephone staggered, and inhaled deeply. She pressed a hand to her tender throat, but managed to stay on her feet and glare at the ogre in her true form. He lowered his eyes, unable to look upon her or meet her bright, eerie eyes.

"I am Persephone, Goddess of Spring, and if you would like to keep your fleeting life, then you will obey me."

Her voice shook as she spoke. She was still rattled from being handled by the ogre. The words she had spoken were her mother's, used at a time when she'd made threats against a Siren who refused to help her search for Persephone when she wandered away. In reality, Persephone was only a few feet away, hiding behind a nearby shrub. She overheard her mother's crude words, and filed them away, knowing that without powers, words would be her only weapon.

The door opened behind the ogre, and he stepped aside, lowering to his knees as Hades came into view. Persephone couldn't breathe. She'd spent all day remembering what he looked like, recalling his elegant but dark features, and yet, her memory was nothing compared to the real thing. He wore a suit similar to last night's, but the tie around his neck was loose, and the buttons of his shirt fell open at the neck, exposing his chest. It was like he'd been interrupted in the middle of undressing.

Then she remembered the woman who had wrapped her arms around his waist—Minthe. Perhaps she had interrupt them.

She took great satisfaction from that thought, even though she knew she shouldn't care.

"Lady Persephone," he said, his voice was heavy and seductive and she shivered.

She forced her eyes level with his—they were equals, after all, and she wanted him to know it because she was about to make demands. She found him studying her, his head tilted to the side. Being under his gaze in her true form felt strangely intimate and she wanted to call up her glamour again. She had made a mistake, been so angry and so desperate, she'd exposed herself.

"Lord Hades," she managed with a curt nod. She was proud that her voice did not shake, though her insides did.

"My Lord," the ogre said, hanging his head. "I did not know she was a goddess. I accept punishment for my actions."

"Punishment?" Persephone questioned, feeling increasingly exposed in the daylight outside the club. It took Hades a moment to peel his gaze from Persephone and look upon the ogre.

"I laid my hands upon a goddess," the monster said.

"And a woman at that," Hades added, unhappily. "I will deal with you later."

Then Hades stepped aside.

"Lady Persephone," he said and let her enter Nevernight. She was left in the dark as the door closed behind her. The air was heavy, charged with an intensity she felt deep in her core, and thick with his scent—spice and ash and deep earth. She wanted to inhale and fill her lungs with it. Instead, she held her breath.

Then he spoke against her ear, his lips brushed feather-light over her skin. "You are full of surprises, darling."

She inhaled sharply, and twisted to face him, but when she did, Hades was no longer near her. He had opened the door and was waiting for her to enter the club.

"After you, goddess," he said. The word wasn't used mockingly, but it was full of curiosity.

Again she slipped passed the 

into the club. She found herself on the balcony overlooking the empty club floor. The place was surprisingly immaculate. She turned and saw Hades looking at her, then he descended the stairs and she followed.

He crossed the floor, heading for the winding stairs and the second floor. She hesitated.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

He paused and turned toward her. "My office," he said. "I imagine that whatever you have to say to me demands privacy?"

She opened and closed her mouth, looking around the empty club.

"This seems pretty private."

"It isn't," he said, and turned without another word and headed up stairs. Again she followed. As they came to the top of the steps, he took a right—away from the room she'd been in the night before—toward a black wall, elaborately embellished with gold. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it the night before. Two large doors bore images of vines and flowers curling around Hades' bident, raised in gold relief. The rest of the wall was patterned with floral designs in gold.

She probably shouldn't be so surprised that the God of the Dead chose to decorate with flowers—the narcissus was his symbol, after all.

Her eyes were drawn to Hades as he opened one of the gilded doors. She was not eager to be in an enclosed space with him. She didn't trust her thoughts or her body. This time, he called her out.

"Will you hesitate at every turn, Lady Persephone?" he asked.

She glared. "I was just admiring your decor, Lord Hades. I did not notice this last night."

"The doors to my quarters are often veiled during business hours," he replied, and then indicated to the open door. "Shall we?"

Once again she gathered her courage, and approached. He didn't leave much room for her to pass, and she brushed against him as she stepped into the room.

She found herself in Hades' office.The first thing she noticed were the windows that overlooked the club floor. He could see everything, she realized.

There were no windows to the outside, but despite this, the space was warmly lit and oddly cozy, even with it's marble black floor. Maybe it had something to do with the fireplace against the far wall. A couch and two chairs made a lovely sitting area, and a fur rug only added to the comforting aesthetic. At the far end of the room, elevated like a throne was a large obsidian slab that acted as Hades' desk. From what she could tell, there was nothing on it—no paperwork or pictures. She wondered if he used it at all or if was just for show.

Immediately in front of her was a table upon which a vase of blood red flowers rested.

She rolled her eyes at the floral arrangement.

Hades closed the door, and she stiffened. This was dangerous. She should have confronted him downstairs where there was more space, where she was better able to think and breath without inhaling him. His boots tapped against the floor as he neared, and her body grew taunt.

Hades stopped in front of her. His eyes scoured her face, lingering on her lips for a split second before lowering to her neck. When he reached out to touch her, Persephone's hand clamped down on his arm. It wasn't that she feared him as much as she feared her reaction to his touch.

Their eyes met.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," she said, and he nodded, carefully pulling his arm free of her grasp. He crossed the room, Persephone assumed to put distance between them.

Then she remembered she was in her true form, and started to raise her glamour.

"Oh, it's a little too late to be modest, don't you think?" Hades said, piercing her with those beautiful dark eyes. He tugged his tie free and she watched it slip from his neck.

She lifted her eyes to his. He wasn't smirking like she expected. He looked...primal. Like a starved animal who had finally cornered his prey. She swallowed and hurriedly said, "Did I interrupt something?"

She wasn't sure she wanted an answer.

The corner of his mouth lifted. "I was just about to go to bed when I heard you demanding entrance to my club."

Bed? It was well past noon.

"Imagine my surprise when I find the goddess from last night on my doorstep.

"Did the gorgon tell you?"

She stepped further into the room, angry. Hades was amused.

"No. Euryale did not. I recognized your magic as Demeter's, but you are not Demeter." Then he tilted his head like he had earlier. "When you left, I consulted a few texts. I had forgotten Demeter had a daughter. I assumed you were Persephone. Question is, why aren't you using your own magic?"

"Is that why you did this?" she demanded, removing the bracelet she'd used to cover the mark on her skin, and holding up her arm.

Hades smirked.

Actually smirked.

Persephone wanted to attack him. She clenched her hands at her sides to keep from vaulting across the room.

"No," he said. "That is the result of losing against me."

"You were teachingme to play," she argued.

"Semantics," he said with a shrug. "The rules of Nevernight are very clear, Goddess."

"They are anything but clear, and you are an asshole!"

Hades eyes darkened. Apparently, he didn't like being called names any more than the ogre did. He pushed away from the desk striding toward her. Persephone took a step back.

"Don't call me names, Persephone," he said, and then reached for her wrist. He traced the bracelet all around, making her shiver. "When you invited me to your table, you entered into an agreement. If you had won, you could have left Nevernight with no demands on your time. But you didn't and now, we have a contract."

She swallowed, considering every horrible, impossible pact he'd made. What darkness would he pull from deep inside her?

"And what does that mean?" Her voice was still biting.

"It means we must choose terms," he said.

"I don't want to be in a contract with you," she said between her teeth. "Take it off!"

"I can't."

"You put it there, you can remove it."

His lips twitched.

"You think this is funny?"

"Oh, darling, you have no idea." The word darling slide across her skin and she shivered again. He seemed to notice because he smiled a little bit more.

"I am a Goddess," she tried again. "We are equals."

"You think our blood changes the fact that you willingly entered into a contract with me? These things are law, Persephone." She glared at him. "The mark will dissolve when the contract has been fulfilled." He said it like that should make it all better.

"And what are your terms?" Just because she was asking didn't mean she was going to agree.

Hades jaw was tight. He seemed to be restraining himself. Maybe he wasn't used to being ordered around. When he lifted his head and stared down at her, she knew she was in trouble.

"Create life in the Underworld," he said at last.

"What?" She hadn't been prepared for that, though she probably should have been. Wasn't her greatest weakness her lack of power? An irony considering her Divinity.

"Create life in the Underworld," he said again. "You have six months—and if you fail or refuse, then you will become a permanent resident of the Underworld."

"You want me to grow a garden in your realm?" she asked, shocked. She considered her options at this point, and could only think of one reply—a threat.

He shrugged. "I suppose that is one way to create life."

She glared at him. "If you steal me away to the Underworld, you will face my mother's wrath."

"Oh, I am sure," he mused. "Much like you will feel her wrath when she discovers what you've so recklessly done."

Persephone's cheeks flushed. He was right. The difference between them was that Hades didn't seemed at all fazed by the threat. Why should he be? He was one of the three—the most powerful gods in existence. A threat from Demeter was a pebble thrown.

She straightened, raising her chin and meeting his gaze head on. "Fine."

Then she felt the pressure of Hades hand on her wrist like a shackle and tore her hand free.

"When do I start?"

Hades eyes glittered. "Come tomorrow. I'll show you the way."

"It will have to be after class," she said.

"Class?"

"I'm a student New Athens University."

Hades looked at her curiously and nodded his head. "After class, then."

They stared at each other for a long moment. As much as she hated him right now, it was hard not to enjoy the sight of him.

"What about your bouncer?"

"What about him?"

"I'd prefer he not remember me in this form," she said, indicating to her horns. Then she called up her glamour. It relaxed her a little, to be in her mortal form. Hades watched the transformation as if he were studying the form of an ancient sculpture.

"I'll erase his memory of you...after he his punished for his treatment of you."

Persephone shivered. "He did not know I was a goddess."

"But he knew you were a woman and he let his anger get the best of him," Hades said. "So he will be punished."

Hades said it matter-of-fact, and she knew there was no arguing and then asked, "What will it cost me?" because she knew who she was dealing with, and she had just requested a favor from the God of the Dead.

His lips twitch.

"Clever, darling. You know how this works. The punishment? Nothing. His memory? A favor."

"Don't call me darling," she snapped. "What kind of favor?"

"Whatever I want," he said. "To be used at a future time."

She considered this for a moment. What would Hades want from her? What could she possibly have to offer him? Maybe it was that thought that made her agree, or the fear that her mother would discover she'd showed her true form. Either way, she said, "Deal."

Hades smiled.

"I will have my driver take you home," he said.

"That's not necessary."

"It is."

She pressed her lips together. "Fine," She gritted out. She didn't really feel like taking the bus again, but the idea that Hades' would know where she lived was unsettling.

Then the God clasped her shoulders, leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. The move was so sudden, she lost her balance. Her fingers tangled into his shirt to steady herself, nails grazing the skin of his chest. His body was hard and warm and his lips were soft on her skin. When he pulled away, she couldn't gather herself enough to be angry.

"What was that for?" she asked, her voice a quiet whisper.

Hades maintained that infuriating smirk, like he knew she couldn't think straight, and brushed a finger across her heated cheek.

"For your benefit. Next time, the door will open for you. I'd rather you not piss Duncan off. If he hurts you again, I will have to kill him, and it's hard to find a good ogre."

Persephone could just imagine.

"Lord Hades, Thanatos is here to see—oh—" A woman entered his office from a hidden door behind his desk. She was beautiful. Her hair was parted in the center, and as red as flame. Her eyes were sharp and brows arched, lips full and lush and red. All her features were pointed and angled. She was a nymph and when she looked at Persephone, there was hatred in her eyes. It was then Persephone realized she was still standing close to Hades, her hands tangled in his shirt. When she tried to pull away, Hades hands tightened on her. "I did not know you had company."

Hades didn't look at the woman. Instead, his eyes remained on Persephone. "A minute, Minthe."

Persephone's first thought was—so this was Minthe. She was beautiful in a way Persephone wasn't—in a way that promised seduction and sin and she loathed the jealousy she felt.

Her second thought was why did he need a minute? What more could he have to say? Persephone didn't see Minthe leave because she couldn't force her gaze away from Hades.

"You haven't answered my question," Hades said. "Why are you using your mother's magic?"

It was her turn to smile. "Lord Hades," she said, drawing a finger down his chest. She wasn't sure what made her do it, but she was feeling brave. "The only way you are getting answers from me is if I decide to enter into another gamble with you and at the moment, it's not likely."

Then she took the lapels of his jacket, and straightened it, her eyes falling to the red polyanthus flower in the pocket of his suit jacket. "I think you will regret this, Hades."

She touched the flower and Hades eyes followed the movement. When her fingers brushed the petals, the flower wilted.


	5. Intrusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

Hades' driver was a cyclops.

She tried not to look so surprised when she saw the creature standing in front of a black Lexus. He was not like the cyclops depicted in history. They had been beastly creatures. This man was taller than Hades and all legs, with broad shoulders and a thin build. His eye was hooded but kind and he smiled when he looked at Persephone.

"Antoni will ensure you make it home safe, Lady Persephone" Hades said.

She regarded the God for a moment and then said, "Am I in danger, My Lord?"

Hades eyes darkened. "Just a precaution. I wouldn't want your mother banging down my door before she has a reason to."

She glared at him and slide into the black leather interior.

Antoni shut her door carefully and then folded himself into the driver's seat of the car. They were on the road quickly, and it took everything in her power not to look back. She wondered how long Hades stood there before returning to his tower. If he was laughing at her boldness and her failure.

She stared down at the flashy gold bracelet that covered the black mark. In this light the gold looked brassy and cheap. She pulled it off and examined the black markings on her skin. The only thing she could think to be thankful for at this moment was that the mark was small enough and in a place where it could be easily hidden.

Create life in the Underworld.

Was there even life in the Underworld? Persephone knew nothing about Hades' realm, and in all her studies, she had never found descriptions of the land of the dead, just details of its geography, and even those seemed to conflict. She supposed she would find out tomorrow, though, the idea of returning to Nevernight to make the descent into the Underworld filled her with anxiety.

She groaned. Just when everything seemed to be working out for her, too.

"Will you be returning to visit Lord Hades?" Antoni asked, glancing in the rear view mirror. The cyclops had a pleasant voice. It was warm and spiced.

"I'm afraid I will," Persephone said absently.

"I hope you'll find him pleasing. Our Lord is often alone."

Persephone found those words strange. "He doesn't seem so alone to me."

She thought of the jealous Minthe..

"Such is the case with the Divine, but I am afraid he trusts very few. If you ask me, he needs a wife."

Persephone blushed.

"I am certain Lord Hades isn't interested in settling down."

"You'd be surprised by what the God of the Dead is interested in," Antoni replied.

Persephone didn't want to know Hades' interests. She already felt like she knew too many and none of them were good.

Persephone watched the cyclops from her seat in the back. She wondered how the monster came to be in the service of the God of the Underworld, so she asked.

"My kind were freed from Tartarus by the Three after we were placed there by Cronos," he replied. "And so we have repaid the favor by serving Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades from time to time."

"As a driver?" she didn't mean to sound so repulsed, but this seemed a menial task.

Antoni laughed. "Yes, but our kind are great builders and blacksmiths, too. We have crafted great gifts for the three, and shall continue."

"But that was so long ago. Surely you have repaid their favor?" Persephone asked.

"When the God of the Dead gives you life, it is a favor that will never be repaid."

Persephone frowned. "I don't understand."

"You have never been to Tartarus, so I don't expect that you will," he paused and added. "Do not misunderstand. My service to Hades is my choice, and of all the gods, I am glad to serve him. He is not like the other Divine."

Antoni arrived outside her apartment and squeezed out of the driver's seat to open her door.

"Oh, you don't have to—I can open my own door," she said.

He smiled. "It is my pleasure, Lady Persephone." She started to ask that he not call her that, but then realized he was using her title, as if he knew she were a goddess, and yet she wore her glamour.

"How did you--"

"Lord Hades called you Lady Persephone," he explained. "So I will, too."

"Please...it is not necessary."

He smiled widened. "I think you should get used to it, Lady Persephone, especially if you visit us often, as I hope you will."

He shut the door and bowed his head. Persephone wandered into her apartment in a daze. This day had been long and bizarre thanks to the God of the Dead.

There was no reprieve from it, either, because Lexa stood in the kitchen when Persephone came inside and pounced.

"Uh, whose Lexus dropped you off in front of our lame apartment?" she asked.

She wanted to lie and claim that someone from her internship had dropped her off, but she knew Lexa wouldn't believe that—she was supposed to be home two hours ago, and her best friend had just watched as she'd literally be chauffeured to their home.

"Well...you're never going to believe this but....Hades."

While she could admit to that, she wasn't ready to tell Lexa about the contract or the mark on her wrist.

Lexa dropped the mug she was holding. Persephone flinched as it hit the floor and shattered.

"Are you kidding?"

Persephone shook her head. As she moved to grab a broom, Lexa followed.

"Like...the Hades? God of the Dead Hades? Owner of Nevernight Hades?"

"Yes, Lexa. Who else?" Persephone asked, irritated.

"How?" she sputtered. "Why?

Persephone started sweeping up the ceramic pieces.

"It was for my job," It wasn't technically a lie. She could call it research.

"And you met Hades? You saw him in the flesh?"

Persephone shivered at the word flesh, recalling Hades' haphazard appearance. "Yeah."

"What did he say?"

"I don't know...he said a lot."

"He said a lot? About what?"

"About why I should be more careful...with my phone."

Lexa's eyes narrowed. She definitely didn't believe her. "What does he look like?" Persephone turned away from Lexa and grabbed the dustpan. She was also trying to hide the furious blush staining her cheeks. "Details. Spill!"

Persephone handed Lexa the dustpan and she held it as Persephone swept up the shattered mug. "I...don't know where to begin," Persephone said at last.

Lexa smiled. "Start with his eyes," she said.

Persephone sighed. It felt intimate to describe Hades' looks. She was well-aware she was only describing a toned-down version of the god because she had yet to see him in his true form. There was a strange anticipation that followed that thought, and she realized she was eager to know the god in his Divinity. Would his horns be as black as his eyes and his hair? Would they curl on either side of his head like a rams, or reach into the air, making him even taller?

"He's handsome," she said, though even that word didn't do him justice. It wasn't just his looks, it was his presence. He was power.

"Someone has a crush." The smug smirk on Lexa's face reminded Persephone that she was too focused on what the god looked like and not enough on what he did.

"What? No. No. Look, Hades is handsome. I'm not blind, but I cannot condone what he does."

"What do you mean?"

Persephone paused and then explained what she'd learned at her internship today. Lexa frowned. "Well, did you ask Hades about it today?"

She blinked, and Lexa took her silence as a no.

"You were at Nevernight today, met Hades, and you didn't ask him about what you'd learned?"

Asking the god about his other bargains hadn't occurred to her. She'd been too focused on the black mark on her wrist and getting it removed to even think about demanding an explanation for his treatment of mortals.

"Looks like you have another reason to visit Hades," Lexa said.

It looked like she did, and hadn't Hades offered her easy access? When he'd pressed his lips to her forehead, he'd said it was for her benefit. She wouldn't have to knock to enter Nevernight again.

She smiled.

The God of the Underworld would definitely regret meeting the Goddess of Spring—and she looked forward to that day.

***

On her way to class at New Athens University, Persephone stopped to purchase an assortment of bangles. Since she would have to wear Hades' mark until she fulfilled their contract, she wanted to accessorize her outfits appropriately. Today she wore a stack of pearls, a classic touch to compliment her bright pink skirt and white button up.

Her heels clicked against the concrete sidewalk as the university came into view. Each step meant time was passing, which meant a second, a minute, an hour closer to her return to Nevernight.

Today Hades would take her to the Underworld. She'd stayed up into the night considering how she was to fulfill their contract. She'd asked if he'd wanted her to plant a garden, and he'd shrugged—shrugged—that is one way, he'd said. What was that supposed to mean, and what other ways could she possibly create life? Isn't that why he'd chosen this challenge? Because she had no power to fulfill the task?

She doubted it was because the Lord Hades wanted beautiful gardens in his desolate realm. He was interested in punishment, after all, and from what she'd heard and witnessed from the god herself, he did not intend the Underworld to be a place for peace and pretty flowers.

Despite how angry she was with herself and Hades, he emotions were at odds. She was both curious and nervous to descended into the god's realm.

Mostly, though, she was afraid.

What if she failed?

No, she closed her eyes against the thought. She couldn't fail. She wouldn't. She would see the Underworld tonight and make a plan. Just because she could not coax a bloom from the ground with magic did not mean she couldn't use other methods. Mortal methods. She would just have to be careful. She would need gloves—it was that or kill every plant she touched and while the garden ruminated, she would look for other ways to fulfill the contract.

Or break it.

She did not know much about Hades except what her mother and mortals believed about the god. He was private, he did not like intrusions, and he did not like the media.

He was really going to dislike what she had planned for today, and suddenly she had the thought—could she make Hades mad enough that he would release her from this contract?

***

Persephone passed through the entrance of New Athens University. It was a set of six columns crowned with a piece of pointed stone. Once inside, Persephone found herself in a stone courtyard, the Library of Artemis rose in front of her, a pantheon-style building that she had taken pleasure in exploring her Freshman year.

Campus was easy to navigate, as it was laid out like a seven-point star—the library being one of the seven points.

Persephone always cut through the center of the star which was the Garden of the Gods, an acre of land full of the favored flowers of the Olympians and marble statues. Though Persephone had walked this path many times to class, today felt different. The garden was like an oppressor, the flowers, enemies, their smells mixing in the air—the thick scent of honeysuckle mingled with the sweet smell of the rose—accosted her senses.

Did Hades expect her to grow something this grand? Would he really sentence her to a life in the Underworld if she failed to deliver his request in six months?

She knew the answer. Hades was a strict god. He believed in rules and boundaries, and he'd set them yesterday, not even fearing the threat of her mother's wrath.

Persephone passed Poseidon's pool, and a towering statue of a very naked Ares with his helm atop his head and shield in hand. It wasn't the only statue of a naked Immortal in the garden. Normally she gave it little thought, but today her gaze was drawn to the large horns atop Ares' head. Her own felt heavy under the glamour she wore. She'd heard a rumor when she moved to New Athens that horns were the source of the Divine's power.

Persephone wished that were true. It wasn't even about having power now. It was about freedom.

"It's just that the Fates have chosen a different path for you, my flower." Demeter had said when Persephone's powers never manifested.

"What path?" Persephone asked. "There is no path, only the walls of your glass prison! Do you keep me hidden away because you are ashamed?"

"I keep you safe because you have no power, my flower. There is a difference."

Persephone still wasn't sure what sort of path the Fates had decided for her, but she knew she could be safe without being imprisoned, and she guessed at some point, Demeter had agreed, because she'd let Persephone ago—albeit, on a long leash.

"Mother," she said.

Demeter appeared beside her daughter. She wore a human glamour. It was not something she often did. It wasn't that Demeter disliked mortals—she was incredibly protective of her cult—she merely knew her status as a goddess. Demeter's mortal mask was not so different from her Immortal appearance. She kept the same smooth hair, the same bright green eyes, the same luminous skin, but her horns—pretty, seven-pronged antlers were veiled. She chose a fitted emerald dress. She looked like she was headed to work.

"What are you doing here?" Persephone asked.

"Where were you yesterday?" Demeter's voice was curt.

"It sounds like you already think you know the answer," she replied. "So why don't you tell me?"

"Do not treat this with sarcasm, my dear. This is very serious—why were you at Nevernight?"

Persephone tried to keep her heart from racing.

"How do you know I was at Nevernight?"

Did a nymph see her?

"Nevermind how I knew. I asked you a question."

It was rare to know her mother as anything but caring and nurturing, but when she was angry, Persephone could glimpse the vengeful goddess who lived deep within. She was the same one who punished lashed nymphs and punished kings.

Persephone shivered.

"I went for work, mother. I must return today, too."

"Absolutely not," she said. "Need I remind you a condition of your time here was that you stay away from the gods. Especially Hades."

She said his name like a curse and Persephone flinched.

"Mother, I have to do this. It's my job."

"Then you will quit."

"No."

Demeter looked stunned, and Persephone was sure that in all her twenty-three years she'd never told her mother no.

"What did you say?"

"I like my life, mother. I've worked hard to get where I am."

"Persephone, you do not need to live this mortal life. It is...changing you."

"Good. That's what I want. I want to be me, whatever that is and you are going to have to accept that."

Demeter's face was stone cold, and Persephone knew what she was thinking—I do not have to accept anything but what I want.

"I have heeded your warnings about the gods, especially Hades. What are you afraid of? That I will allow him to seduce me? Have more faith in me."

Demeter paled and hissed, "This is serious, Persephone."

"I am being serious, mother." She checked her watch. "I have go. I will be late for class."

Persephone sidestepped her mother and left the garden. She could feel her mother's gaze burning her back as she went.

She would regret standing up for herself, she was sure of it.

Question was, what punishment would the Goddess of Harvest choose?

***

Class went by in a blur of furious notes and droning lectures. Normally Persephone was attentive, but she had a lot on her mind. Her conversation with her mother was gnawing away at her insides. Though Persephone was proud she stood up for herself, she knew Demeter could whisk her away with a snap of her fingers, back to the glass greenhouse. She was also considering how she might convince Adonis to come to Nevernight with her to interview Hades. She wasn't eager to be in an enclosed space with him again. Having Adonis with her meant she would have backup.

She was still feeling off at lunch, and Lexa noticed.

"What's wrong?"

She considered how to tell her friend her mother was spying on her. Finally, she said, "I found out my mom's been tracking me," she said. "She...sorta found out about Nevernight."

She didn't specify the night, Lexa would just assume it was the night they'd gone together.

Lexa rolled her eyes. "Doesn't she realize you're an adult?"

"I don't think my mother has ever seen me as an adult."

And she didn't think her mother ever would, evident by her use of the nickname Kore.

"Don't let her make you feel bad for having fun, Persephone. Definitely don't let her keep you from doing what you want."

But it was harder than that. Obeying meant she could stay in the mortal world and that's what Persephone wanted, even if it wasn't as fun.

After lunch, Lexa came with Persephone to the Acropolis. She claimed it was to see where she worked, but Persephone suspected she wanted a glimpse at Adonis and she got one, because he intercepted them as they passed the glass partition.

"Hey," he said. "Lexa, right? It's good to see you again," he said.

It was the first time Persephone realized how charming this man could be. It helped that he was remarkably handsome, and Lexa was totally under his spell. She grinned, adoration clear on her face.

"I couldn't believe it when Persephone told me she worked with you. What a coincidence."

He looked at Persephone then, and smiled. "It was definitely a pleasant surprise. You know what they say, small world, huh?"

"Adonis, a moment?" Demetri called from his doorway. They looked in his direction.

"Coming!" Adonis said, and looked back at Lexa. "Good to see you. Let's all go out sometime."

"Careful, we'll hold you to that."

"I hope you do."

Adonis left then, and Lexa met Persephone's gaze. "Tell me—is he as handsome as Hades?"

Persephone didn't meant to scoff, but she did. She also didn't mean to offer a resounding, "No."

But she did.

Lexa raised a brow and smiled. She leaned forward and pecked Persephone on the cheek. "I'll see you tonight. Oh, and make sure you follow up with Adonis. He's right—we should go out together."

As Lexa left, Persephone deposited her belongs at her desk and went to make coffee. Post lunch, she was feeling tired, and she needed all her energy for what she was about to do.

When she returned to her desk, Adonis stepped out of Demetri's office.

"So, about this weekend," she said.

"This weekend?" She questioned.

"I thought we could go out this weekend," he said. "You know, with Lexa. I'll invite Aro, Xeres, and Sybil."

"Oh...well, actually, before we discuss that, I was hoping you might come to Nevernight with me."

"Tonight?" He looked hopeful.

"No. Now."

His face fell.

"Nevernight's not open."

"I know. I want to interview Hades."

"You want to...what?"

"I'd like to give Hades a chance to offer his side of things," she explained. "You know, before I write my article."

Adonis blinked a couple times and finally found his words.

"That's not how this works, Persephone. You can't just show up at a god's place of business and demand an audience. There's a...there are rules."

She raised a brow and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Rules?"

"Yes, rules. We have to submit a request to his PR manager."

"A request that will be denied, I'm assuming?"

Adonis didn't look comfortable.

"Look, if we go there at least we can say we tried to reach him for comment and he denied us. I can't write this article without trying and I don't want to wait."

Not when I can enter Nevernight at will, she thought. Hades would regret kissing her when he saw how she planned to use his favor.

After a moment, Adonis sighed.

"Okay. I'll let Demetri know we're heading out."

He started to turn, and Persephone stopped him. "You haven't...told Demetri about this, have you?"

"Not that you plan to write this article."

"Can we keep it a secret? For now?"

Adonis smiled. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want, Persephone."

Adonis parks on the curb in front of Nevernight. His red Lexus glared against the black backdrop of Hades' obsidian tower. Even though Persephone was determined to follow through with this interview, she had a moment of doubt. Was she being too bold in assuming she could even use Hades' favor in this way?

Adonis came up beside her. "Looks different in the daylight, huh?"

"Yeah," she said absently. The tower did look different—more harsh. A jagged cut in a sparkling city.

Adonis tried the door but it was locked, so he knocked and offered no time for someone to answer the door before retreating.

"Looks like no one's home."

He definitely didn't want to be here, and Persephone wondered why he hesitated to confront the god when he came to his club so often at night.

As Adonis turned away from the door, Persephone tried it and it opened.

"Yes!" She hissed to herself.

Adonis looked back at her, puzzled.

"How did you...it was locked!"

She shrugged. "Maybe you didn't pull hard enough. Come on."

As she disappeared into Nevernight she heard Adonis say, I swear it was locked."

She stepped onto the balcony and descended the stairs, entering the now-familiar club. Her heels clicked against the glossy black floor and she looked up into the darkness of the tall ceiling, knowing that this floor could be seen from Hades office.

"Hello? Anybody home?" Adonis called.

Persephone cringed and resisted the urge tell Adonis to shut up. She'd had it in her head that she'd head upstairs to Hades office, catch him off guard. Though, she wasn't so sure that was a great idea. She considered yesterday when he'd answered the door disheveled. He'd said was about to go to bed, but after meeting Minthe and seeing the anger in her eyes at catching her in Hades' arms, she wondered if he meant he was going to bed with her.

Speaking of Minthe, the red-headed nymph emerged from the darkness of the room. She wore a fitted black dress and heels. She was just as lovely as Persephone remembered. The Goddess of Spring had met and befriended many nymphs, but none of them looked quite as severe as Minthe. She wondered if that was the result of serving the God of the Underworld.

"Can I help you?" She had an inviting and smoky voice, but it didn't hide the sharpness of her tone.

"Hi," Adonis brushed past Persephone, suddenly finding his confidence, and extended his hand. Persephone was surprised and slightly frustrated when Minthe took it hand and offered a smile.

"Adonis."

"Minthe."

"Do you work here?" he asked.

"I am Lord Hades assistant," she replied.

Persephone looked away and rolled her eyes. Assistant seemed like a loaded word.

"Really?" Adonis sounded genuinely surprised. "But you're so beautiful."

It really wasn't Adonis' fault. Nymphs had that effect on people, but she was on a mission and growing inpatient. He held her hand for a long moment until Persephone cleared her throat, and he dropped it. He cleared his throat.

"Uh...and this is Persephone," he gestured to her. Minthe said nothing, she didn't even nod. "We are from New Athens News."

"So you're a reporter?" She asked, her eyes flashed, and Adonis probably took it as interest in his occupation, but Persephone knew otherwise.

"We are actually here to speak with Hades," she said. "Is he around?"

Minthe's eyes burned into her. "Do you have an appointment with LordHades?"

"No," Persephone said.

"Then I'm afraid you cannot speak to him."

"Oh, well, that's too bad," Adonis said. "We'll come back when we have an appointment. Persephone?"

She ignored Adonis, glaring at Minthe.

"Inform your Lord that Persephone is here and would like to speak with him." She spoke it as a command, and that is what she intended, but Minthe was not fazed and smiled, looking at Adonis.

"Your counterpart must be new and therefore ignorant to how this works. See, Lord Hades does not give interviews."

"Of course," Adonis said and wrapped his fingers around Persephone's wrists. "Let's go, Persephone. I told you, there is a protocol we need to follow."

Persephone looked at Adonis' fingers wrapped around her wrist and then met his gaze. She wasn't sure what look she gave him, but her eyes burned and anger was rising hot in her blood. "Let me go."

His eyes widened and he released her. She turned her attention back to Minthe.

"I am not ignorant to how this works," Persephone said. "I simply demand to speak with Hades."

"Demand?" Minthe crossed her arms over her chest, brows rising to her hairline, then she smiled and it was wicked. "Fine. I'll tell him you demandto see him, but only because I will take great satisfaction in hearing him turn you away."

She twisted on her heels and melted into the darkness. Persephone wondered for a moment if she really was going to tell Hades or send an ogre to kick them out.

"Why would Hades know your name?" Adonis asked.

She didn't look at him as she replied, "I met him the same night I met you."

She could feel his questions building in the air between them. She just hoped he didn't ask them.

Minthe returned looking pissed, and that filled Persephone with a ridiculous amount of satisfaction, especially since the nymph had been so sure Hades would turn them away.

She lifted her chin and said tightly, "Follow me."

Persephone thought about telling Minthe she didn't need a guide, but Adonis was here, and he was already curious. She didn't want him knowing she had been here yesterday, or about her contract with the God of the Dead.

Persephone offered Adonis a glance before following Minthe up the same set of twisting stairs she'd followed Hades up yesterday to the ornate gold and black doors of Hades office. Adonis offered a low whistle.

Today she focused on the gold rather than the flowers, thinking it fitting he would choose gold. He was the god of precious metals.

Minthe didn't knock before she entered Hades' office. She strode ahead, her hips swayed. Perhaps she hoped to hold Hades' attention—but Persephone felt his gaze on her the moment she entered the room. He tracked her like prey. He stood near the windows, and she wondered how long he had been watching them from the window.

Judging by how rigid he stood, she guessed he'd been there a while.

Unlike yesterday when she had demanded entrance into Nevernight, Hades appearance was pristine. He was an elegant chasm of darkness, and she might have thought to be terrified if she wasn't so angry with him.

Minthe paused and nodded. "Persephone, My Lord."

Her tone had taken on that sultry edge again. Persephone imagined she used it when she wanted to bend men to her will. Perhaps she forgot Hades was a god. She shifted, turning to face Persephone again, standing just behind Hades.

"And...herfriend, Adonis," she added.

It was at the mention of Adonis, that Hades eyes finally left Persephone, and she felt released from a spell. Hades gaze slid to her counterpart and darkened before he nodded to Minthe.

"You are dismissed, Minthe. Thank you."

Once she was gone, Hades moved to fill a glass with brown liquid from a crystal decanter. He did not ask them to sit. It wasn't a good sign. He intended this meeting to be very short.

"To what do I owe this...intrusion?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed at the word. She wanted to ask him the same—because that's what he'd done, intruded on her life.

"Lord Hades," she said, and took her notebook out of her purse. She'd written down the names of every victim. "Adonis and I are from New Athens News. We have been investigating several complaints about you and wondered if you might comment."

He lifted the glass to his lips and sipped, but said nothing. Beside her, Adonis offered a nervous laugh. "Persephone is investigating," he said. "I'm just...here for moral support."

She glared at him. Coward.

"Is that a list of my offenses?" He asked.

She met his gaze. His eyes were so dark and void of emotion. She wondered if this is how he welcomed souls into his world.

She ignored his question and read a few of the names on the list, after a moment, she met his gaze.

"Do you remember these people?"

He took a languid sip of his liquor. "I remember every soul."

"And every bargain?"

His yes narrowed and he studied her a moment before asking, "The point, Persephone. Get to the point. You've had no trouble of it in the past, why now?"

She felt Adonis look at her, and she glared at Hades, her face flush with anger. He made it sound like they'd known each other far longer than two days.

"You agree to offer morals whatever they desire if they gamble with you and win."

"Not all mortals and not all desires," he said.

"Oh, forgive me, you are selective in the lives you destroy."

His face hardened. "I do not destroy lives."

"You only make the terms of your contract known after you've won! That is deception."

"The terms are clear, the details are mine to determine. It is not deception, as you call it. It is a gamble."

"You challenge their vice. Their deepest secrets—"

"I challenge what is destroying their life. It is their choice to conquer or succumb."

She stared at him. He spoke so matter-of-fact, as if he had rehearsed this conversation.

"And how to do you know their vice?" she asked.

It was the answer she had been waiting for, and at the question, a wicked smile crossed Hades' face. It transformed him, and hinted at the god beneath the glamour.

"I see to the soul," he said. "What burdens it, what corrupts it, what destroys it—and challenge it."

But what do you see when you look at me?

She hated to think he knew her secrets and she knew nothing about him.

And then she snapped.

"You are the worst sort of god!"

Hades flinched, but quickly recovered from his shock as it melted into anger.

"Persephone—" Adonis warned, but Hades warm baritone quickly drowned him out.

"I am helping these mortals," he argued, taking a deliberate step toward her.

"How? By offering an impossible bargain? Abstain from addiction or lose your life? That's absolutely ridiculous, Hades."

"I have had success," he argued.

"Oh? And what is your success? I suppose it doesn't matter to you as you win either way, right? All souls come to you at some point."

His gaze turns stony and he moved to close the distance between them, but before he could, Adonis stepped between the god and Persephone. Hades eyes ignited, and with a flick of his wrist, Adonis went limp and collapsed to the floor.

"What did you do?" She demanded, and started to reach for him, but Hades reached for her wrists, keeping her on her feet and drawing her into him. She held her breath, not wanting to be this close, where she could feel his warm and smell his scent. His breath caressed her lips as he spoke.

"I'm assuming you don't want him to hear what I have to say to you—don't worry, I won't request a favor when I erase his memory."

"Oh, how kind of you," she mocked, craning her neck to match his gaze. He was bent over her, his hold on her wrists the only thing keeping her from falling onto her back.

"What liberties you take with my favor, Lady Persephone." His voice was low—too low for this kind of conversation. It was the voice of a lover—warm and impassioned.

"You never specified how I had to use your favor." His eyes narrowed a fraction.

"I didn't, though I expected you to know better than to drag thismortal into my realm."

It was her turn to narrow her eyes. "Do you know him?"

Hades ignored the question.

"You plan to write a story about me? Tell me, Lady Persephone, will you detail your experiences with me? How you recklessly invited me to your table, begged me to teach you cards—"

"I did not beg!"

"Will you speak of how you flush from your pretty head to your toes in my presence and how I make you lose your breath—"

As he spoke, he leaned closer.

"Shut up!"

"Will you speak of the favor I have given you or are you too ashamed?"

"Stop!"

She pulled away, and he released her but he was not through.

"You may blame me for the choices you made, but it changes nothing. You are mine for six months."

She tried hard to keep from shivering at his possessive words. He was calm as he spoke, and it unnerved her because she had the distinct impression that he was anything but calm on the inside.

"It is true what they say about you," she said, her chest rising and falling. "You heed no prayer. You offer no mercy."

Hades' face remained blank. "No one prays to the God of the Dead, my lady, and when they do, it is already too late."

Hades waved his hand, and Adonis awoke, inhaling a sharp breath. He sat up quickly, and looked around when his eyes landed on Hades, he scrambled to his feet.

"S-sorry," he said. He looked at the floor, and didn't meet Hades' gaze.

"I will answer no more of your questions," Hades said. "Minthe will show you out."

Hades turned away. As he did, Adonis got to his feet, and Minthe appeared instantly, hair and eyes aflame, dead set on Persephone.

She had the fleeting thought that she and Hades would make quite the intimidating pair and she didn't like it.

Adonis and Persephone turned to leave.

"Persephone," Hades' voice commanded her attention. She paused at the door and looked back. "I shall add your name to my guest list this evening."

He still expected her tonight, and her heart fell into her stomach. What sort of punishment would he add to her sentence for her indiscretion? She had the contract, and she already owed him one favor.

She stared at him for a moment and all his darkness seemed to blur together, except for his eyes which burned like a fire in the night.

She turned to leave the office and didn't miss Adonis' open mouth.

Once they were outside Nevernight, Adonis scratched his head. "Well, that was interesting."

Persephone wasn't listening. She was too distracted by what had transpired in Hades' office. She was appalled by Hades' misuse of power and his corrupt belief that he was helping.

"So you've...met Hades before?" Adonis asked as they got into his car.

"Huh?" She asked

"Hades, you've met him before?"

She stared at him a moment. Hades had said he would erase Adonis' memories, but at that question, she wondered if it had worked.

"Once," she admitted hesitantly. "Why?"

He shrugged. "There just seemed to be a lot of tension between you two, like...you had a history."

How was it that a few hours of history between them felt like lifetimes? Why had she ever invited Hades to the table? She knew she'd regret that decision for the rest of her life. This kind of deal had claws, and there was no way she was getting out of this without scars. There was too much at stake, too much that was forbidden. Persephone's freedom was wrapped up in this—and the threat came from all sides.

"Persephone?" Adonis asked. She took a breath.

"No," she said after a moment. "We don't have history."


	6. The Styx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

What do you wear on a tour of the Underworld?

It was a question Persephone had been asking herself since she left Hades' office earlier in the day. She should have asked more questions like would they be hiking? What was the weather like below?

She was tempted to wear yoga pants just to get a reaction out of the god, but then she remembered she was going to Nevernight first and they had a dress code.

In the end, she picked a short silver dress with a low neckline and heels that sparkled as she walked.

Persephone stepped off the bus in front of Hades' club and approached the entrance, ignoring jealous stares from the impossibly long line. The waiting bouncer was not Duncan, but he was an ogre. Persephone wondered how Hades would punish the monster for his treatment of her. She had to admit, she'd been surprised by Hades in that moment. He hadn't defended her because she was a goddess, he'd defended her because she was a woman.

And despite his many flaws, she had to respect that.

"My name is—" she started.

"You need not introduce yourself, my lady," the ogre said.

Persephone reddened, and hoped that no one in the line closest to her could hear. The ogre reached and opened the door. How did this creature know her? Was it the favor Hades had bestowed upon her? Was it visible somehow?

She met the ogre's gaze. "What is your name?"

The creature looked surprised and said, "Mekonnen, my lady."

"Mekonnen," she repeated and smiled. "Call me Persephone, please."

His eyes widened. "My lady—I couldn't. Lord Hades, he would—"

"I will speak with Lord Hades," she said, and placed her hand on the ogre's arm. "Call me Persephone."

Mekonnen offered a crooked smile and then swept his hand out in a dramatic fashion, bowing at the waist. "Persephone."

She laughed and shook her head. She'd talk to him later about the bowing, but for now, if he never called her 'my lady' again, she'd see that as a victory.

She entered the club and made her way to the floor, but just as she came to the end of the steps, a Satyr approached her. He was handsome, and had shaggy, dark hair, and a goatee. He wore a black button up. The only glamour he wore was to hide his goat legs and horns that that curled out of the front of his head.

"Lady Persephone?" He asked.

"Just Persephone," she said. "Please."

"Apologies, Lady Persephone, I speak as Lord Hades commands."

"Lord Hades has no say over how I am to be addressed," she said and then smiled. "Persephone it is."

The corners of his lips curled. "I like you already. I am Ilias. Lord Hades wishes me to apologize on his behalf. He is otherwise engaged and has advised me to show you to his office. He has promised he will not be long."

She wondered what was holding him up. Perhaps he was sealing another terrible contract with a mortal or just waking up with Minthe.

"I'll just wait at the bar, then," she said. 

"I'm afraid that will not do."

"Another command?" She asked. 

Ilias offered an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid this one must be obeyed, Persephone."

That annoyed her, but she smiled at Ilias. "Only for you, then."

She followed the Satyr as he cut through the thickening crowd and along the familiar path to Hades' office. She was surprised when the Satyr followed her inside. He walked to the bar where Hades had served himself earlier in the day.

"Can I get you anything? Wine, Perhaps?"

"Yes, please—a cab, if you have it."

If she was going to spend the evening with Hades and in the Underworld, she wanted a drink in her hand. 

"Coming right up!"

The Satyr was so cheerful, she found it hard to believe he worked for Hades. She watched as Ilias selected a bottle of wine and began to uncork it.

After a moment, she asked, "Why do you serve Hades?"

"I do not serve Lord Hades. I work for him. There is a difference."

"Why do you work for him, then?"

"Lord Hades is very generous," the Satyr explained. "Don't believe everything you hear about him. Most of it isn't true."

That piqued her interest. "Tell me something that isn't true."

The Satyr chuckled as he poured her wine and slid the glass across the table.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure." Then he met her gaze, and she was surprised by how serious he looked. "They say Hades is protective of his realm, and that is true, but it isn't about power. He cares for his people, protects them, and he takes it personally if they are harmed. If you belong to him, he will tear the world apart to save you."

She shivered and answered, "I don't belong to him."

Ilias smiled. "Yes you do, or I wouldn't be serving you wine in his office." The Satyr bowed. "Hades will be along soon."

With that, the Satyr was gone and Persephone was left in the silence. It was quiet in Hades' office—the fireplace didn't even pop. She wondered if this was a form of punishment in Tartarus. It would definitely have driven her insane. She walked to the wall of windows that overlooked the main floor of the club. She had the strange feeling that this was how the Olympians once felt when they lived in the clouds and looked down upon the Earth.

She studied the mortals below. At first glance, she saw clusters of friends and couples, their worries banished by the drink in their hand. For them, this was a night of fun and euphoria. A night not to unlike the one she'd had upon her first visit. For others, though, their visit to Nevernight meant hope.

She picked them out one-by-one. They gave themselves away by the way they looked longingly at the spiral staircase that lead to the second floor where Hades made his deals. She noted the slumped shoulders of the stressed, the glistening sweat on the brows of the anxious, the rigid posture of the desperate.

The sight made her sad, but they would be warned soon enough not to fall prey to Hades' games.

She turned from the window, and her eyes fell on Hades desk. It was a huge piece of obsidian, and looked as if it had been cleaved from the earth and polished. Persephone wondered if it had come from the Underworld. She trailed her fingers along its smooth surface. Unlike her desk which was already covered in sticky notes and personalized with photos, his was free of clutter. She was disappointed. She'd hoped to glean something useful from the contents of his desk, but this one didn't even have drawers.

She sighed and turned around, remembering that Minthe had appeared from a passage behind Hades desk. Looking at the wall now, there was no indication a door existed. She stepped closer, leaning to inspect the wall—seamless.

The door probably responded to Hades magic, which meant it should respond to her favor. She placed her hand on the wall, and ran it over the smooth surface—until her hand sunk into the surface. She gasped and drew back quick, heart beating hard in her chest. She inspected her hand front and back, but found nothing.

Curiosity overwhelmed her, and she looked over her should before she tried again. This time, she pushed farther into the wall. It gave way like liquid, and when she stepped through on the other side, she found herself in a hallway lined with crystal chandeliers. The light kept her feet in shadow, and when she took a step forward, she fell and landed hard on something sharp. The impact took her breath away. Panicked, she inhaled in gasps until her breathing returned to normal. It was then she realized she'd fallen on a step. The light overhead barely touched the outline of a staircase.

Persephone struggled to her feet, despite a sharp pain in her side. She took off her pumps and left them behind, making her way down the steps at a steep incline. She kept her hand pressed to her side and the other on the wall, afraid that if she fell again she'd break her ribs.

By the time Persephone reached even ground, her legs and side ached. Ahead, a blinding but hazy light filtering into a cave-like opening. She stumbled toward it, and walked right into a field of tall, green grass speckled with blooming, white flowers. In the distance an obsidian palace rose—it was beautiful but ominous, like clouds full of lightning and thunder. When she looked behind her, she discovered she'd traveled down a great obsidian mountain.

This is the Underworld, she thought. It looked so normal. So...beautiful. Like a whole other world beneath the world. The sky here was vast and alight, but she could not spot a sun, and the air was neither warm nor cold, though the breeze that moved the grass and her hair made her shiver. It also carried a mix of scents—sweet florals, spice and ash. It was how Hades smelled, too. She wanted to inhale it, but even shallow breaths hurt after her fall earlier.

She wandered farther from the mouth of the mountain, keeping her arms crossed over her chest, hesitant to touch the delicate white flowers for fear they would wilt. The farther she walked, the angrier she became with Hades. She saw lush vegetation all around her. Part of her had wanted the Underworld to be full of ash and smoke and fire, but here she found...life.

Why had Hades charged her with such a task if he already excelled at creating it?

She continued forward with no destination other than the palace. It was the only thing she could see beyond the vast field. She was surprised no one had come after her yet. She'd heard that Hades' had a three-headed dog who guarded the entrance to the Underworld. She wondered if it was her favor that helped her pass into this place unknown.

Except that she sort of wished someone would come along, because the longer she walked and the heavier she breathed, the more her side hurt.

Soon she found her way barred by a river. It was an unsettling body of water, dark and churning and so wide she couldn't tell what was on the other side.

This must be the Styx, she thought. It marked the boundaries of the Underworld, and was known to be guarded by Charon, a daemon, also known as a guiding spirit, who lead souls into the Underworld upon his ferry, but Persephone saw no daemon and no ferry. There were only flowers—an abundance of narcissus spilled over the side of the river.

How was she supposed to cross? She looked back at the mountain—she'd come too far to turn back now. She was a strong swimmer, except that the pain in her side might slow her down. Aside from the current, it looked rather unassuming—just dark, deep water.

Persephone stepped closer to the bank. It was wet, slippery, and steep. The flowers growing along the incline created a seat of white—a strange contrast against the water which looked like oil. She tested the water with her foot before slipping into the river completely. The water was cold, and her breathing became labored, which made the pain in her side worse.

Just as she set a descent pace across the river, something clamped down on her ankle and pulled. Before she could scream, she was dragged under the water.

Persephone kicked and clawed at the water, but the more she struggled, the tighter the grip and the faster the thing moved, deep into the river. She tried to twist to get a look at the thing that snatched her, but a spasm of pain made her cry out and water spilled into her mouth and down her throat.

And then something clamped down on her wrist, and she was jerked roughly as the thing pulling her feet was halted. When she looked at what held her wrist, she screamed. It was a corpse. Two vacant eyes stared back at her. Bits of skin still clung to parts of its skeleton face.

She was caught between the two as they pulled her up and down, stretching her limbs to the point of pain. They were soon joined by two more who took hold of her remaining limbs.

Her lungs burned and her chest ached, and she felt pressure building behind her eyes.

She was going to die in the Underworld.

But then one of the dead let go to attack the other—the others followed soon after. Persephone took her chance and swam as fast as she could. She was weak and tired, but she could see Hades' strange sky brightening the surface of the river above, and the freedom and air it promised motived her.

She broke the surface just as one of the dead caught up with her. Something sharp bit into her shoulder, and dragged her under again. This time, she was saved as someone from the bank of the river managed to grab her wrist. She was dragged from the water, the dead thing wrenching free with a vengeance.

She felt solid ground beneath her and a musical voice commanded her to breath.

She couldn't—it was a combination of the pain and the exhaustion. Then she felt the press of a mouth against hers as air was pushed into her lungs. She rolled over and heaved as water spilled onto the grass. When she was finished, she rolled onto her back, exhausted, realizing she wasn't alone anymore.

"You're a god," she said, surprised.

The man who pulled her from the river squatted before her. He was handsome and reminded her of sunshine. He had golden curls and bronzed skin. He was smiling, showing a set of dimples on either side of his face.

"You're not Hades," she said, confused.

"No." He looked amused. "I am Hermes."

"Ah," she said and laid her head back down.

"Ah?"

"Yes, ah."

He grinned. "So you've heard of me?"

She rolled her eyes. "The God Of Trickery And Thieves."

"I beg your pardon, you forgot trade, commerce, merchants, roads sports, travelers, athletes, heraldry..."

"How could I have forgotten. Heraldry?" She asked absently, and then shivered, starting up at the dim sky.

"You are cold?" He asked.

"Well, I was just pulled from a river."

He pulled off his cloak, and covered her. The fabric didn't feel warm or thick, but when she remembered what she was wearing—the shirt, silver dress, she was glad for it. .

"And shall I guess who you are?" He asked.

"Oh yes—entertain yourself," she said.

Hermes looked serious for a moment, and tapped his lips with his finger. "Hmm. I think you are the Goddess of Sexual Frustration."

Persephone barked laughed. "I think that is Aphrodite."

"Did I say sexual frustration? I meant Hades' sexual frustration."

Just as the words were out of his mouth, the god was thrown back. His body made the ground shake beneath her as he landed, tossing up dirt and rock.

Persephone sat up, despite the pain and turned to find Hades. He stood, towering over her, his eyes dark and angry.

"Why did you do that?" She demanded.

"You try my patience, goddess, and my favor," he said.

"So you are a goddess!" Hermès sounded triumphant, and rose from the rubble unscathed.

She glared at Hades.

"He will keep your secret or he will find himself in Tartarus."

"You know, Hades, not everything has to be a threat. You could try asking once in a while—just like you could have asked me to step away from your goddess here instead of throwing me halfway across the Underworld."

"I'm not his goddess! And you—" Persephone looked at Hades. Hermes' brows rose, and he looked very amused. She struggled to her feet, because up until now, she'd been glaring up at them both from the ground. "You could be nicer to him. He did save me from your river!"

Once she was on her feet, she regretted moving. She felt dizzy and nauseous.

"You wouldn't have had to be saved from my river if you had waited for me!"

"Right, because you were otherwise engaged," she rolled her eyes. "Wonder what that means."

"Shall I get you a dictionary?"

Hermes laughed and Hades turned on him. "Why are you still here?"

Persephone swayed. Hades lunged, catching her before she hit the ground. The impact jarred her side, and she moaned.

"What's wrong?" He demanded.

"I fell on the stairs. I think I..." she took a breath and winced. "I think I bruised my ribs."

When she met his gaze, she was surprised to see he looked worried.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I'm okay."

Then Hermes said, "She has a pretty nasty gash on her shoulder, too." 

The worry she'd seen burned away with his anger. His jaw tightened, and he lifted Persephone into his arms, careful not to jar her.

"Where are we going?"

"To my palace," he said, and teleported.


	7. Favor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

"Can you sit?" Hades asked.

She opened her eyes to find the King of the Underworld staring down at her. She'd closed her eyes when they teleported because it usually made her dizzy.

She nodded, and Hades lowered her to the ground and then helped her sit. It was then she realized she was on a bed—a bed covered in black silk sheets. She looked around, discovering he'd brought her to a bedroom. It reminded her of Nevernight with it's shiny obsidian walls and floor, and despite all the black, the room somehow seemed cozy. Perhaps it had to do with the roaring hearth opposite the bed, the fur rug at her feet, or maybe the wall of French doors that lead to a balcony overlooking a forest of deep green trees.

Hades lowered to the ground before her, and she felt a little bit of panic.  
"What are you doing?"

He said nothing as he pulled Hermès cloak from her body. She hadn't been prepared or she would have fought for it, instead, she sat, exposed under Hades gaze. He sat back on his heels as his eyes travelled over her body. They lingered longest on her torn shoulder, catching in all the places her silver dress clung. She drew and arm over her chest, trying to maintain some modesty and then Hades came up onto his knees, bracing his arms on either side of her.

"Which side?" He asked.

She kept his gaze a moment before reaching for his hand and pressing it to her side. She was surprised by her boldness, but rewarded with his touch. It was warm and healing. She moaned and leaned into him, taking a few deep breaths until she no longer felt the ache of her bruised ribs.

When she opened her eyes, he was inches away. If anyone entered his room at this point, they might think he was listening to her heart with the way he was positioned—pressed between her legs, head turned away. After a moment, he turned toward her, but did not pull away.

"Better?"

His voice was low, a husky whisper that trailed over her skin. She resisted the urge to shiver.

"Yes."

"Your shoulder is next," he said, standing.

She started to turn her head to get a glimpse at the wound, but Hades stopped her with a hand on her cheek.

"No," he said. "It's best if you don't look."

He turned from her then and stepped into an adjacent room. She heard the sound of running water. While she waited for him to return, she rested on her side, eager to close her tired eyes.

"Wake, my darling." Hades' voice was like his touch—warm, coaxing. He kneeled before her again, blurry at first, and then coming into sharp focus.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Do not apologize," he said, wringing out a white cloth, he start to clean the blood from her shoulder.

"I can do this," she said, and started to rise, but Hades held her in place and met her gaze.

"Allow me this," he said. There was something...raw and primal in his eyes she knew she couldn't argue with, so she nodded.

His touch was gentle, and she closed her eyes. So he would know she wasn't asleep, she asked questions.

"Why are there dead people in your river?"

"They are the souls who were not buried with coins," he said.

She opened on eye. "You stilldo that?"

He smirked. She decided she liked when he smiled. "No. Those dead are ancient."

"And what do they do? Besides drown the living."

"That's all they do," he replied, matter-of-fact, and Persephone paled. Then she realized that was their purpose. No souls in, no souls out. Anyone who found their way into the Underworld without Hades' knowledge would have to cross the Styx, and it was not likely they would survive.

She fell silent after that. Hades finished cleaning her wound, and once again, she felt his healing warmth radiate through her. Once he was finished, he lifted her from the bed and repositioned her.

She opened her eyes, heavy with sleep.

"Thank you," she whispered to Hades, and then noted the harsh set of his face. Frowning, she said, "You are angry."

She reached out to smooth his knitted brows, tracing her finger along the side of his face, over his cheek, and to the corner of his lips. He did not relax under her touch, and she withdrew quickly. She closed her eyes, not wanting to witness the look on his face when he decided to face her again.

"Persephone," she said.

"What?"

"I wish to be called Persephone only. Not 'lady.'"

"Rest," she heard him say. "I will be here when you wake."

She didn't fight the sleep that came.

***

Persephone's eyes felt like sandpaper when she opened them. For a moment, she thought she was home in her bed, but quickly remembered she had almost drowned in a river in the Underworld. Hades had brought her to his palace, and she now lay in his bed.

She sat up quickly, closing her eyes against her dizziness. When it passed, she opened her eyes again and found Hades sitting in a chair opposite her. He was watching her. In one hand he held a glass of brown liquid—whisky, she guessed, apparently his drink of choice. He had shed his suit jacket and wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the buttons halfway undone. She couldn't place his expression, but she felt that he was upset.

Hades took a sip of the whisky, and the fire behind him cracked in the silence that stretched between them. In that quiet, she was hyper-aware of the way her body was reacting to him. He wasn't even doing anything, but in these close quarters, she could smell him, and it ignited a fire in her body.

She found herself wishing he would speak—say something so I can be mad at you again. It wasn't long before he obliged.

"How long have I been here?" she asked.

"Hours," he said.

Her eyes widened. "What time is it?"

He shrugged. "Late."

"I have to go," she said, but didn't move.

"You have come all this way," he said. "Allow me to offer you a tour of my world."

Hades stood and his presence seemed to fill the room. He downed the last of his whiskey, and then walked to where she sat on the bed. He held out his hand, and she took it.

She expected him to step away as she got to her feet, but he remained close, and kept a hold of her fingers. When she finally looked up, he was watching her.

"Are you well?" His voice was deep and rumbled through her.

She nodded. "Better."

Then he drew his finger along her cheek, leaving a trail of heat. "Trust that I am devastated that you were hurt in my realm."

She swallowed and managed to say, "I am okay."

He kept looking at her, and then his gentle eyes hardened. "It will never happen again." He reached for something at the end of the bed—a black robe—and slipped it around her shoulders. It was huge, and must have belonged to Hades. "Come."

He lead onto the balcony outside his room—and the view was breathtaking. The colors of the Underworld were muted, and though not as bright as those above, still beautiful. The sky was grey and provided a backdrop for the brown-black mountains, which melded with a forest of deep green trees. To the right, the trees thinned, and she could see the Styx's black water snaking through the tall grass.

"Do you like it?" He asked.

"It is beautiful," she answered, and she thought he looked pleased. "You created all of this?"

He nodded only once. "The Underworld evolves just as the world above."

Her fingers were still laced with his, and he tugged, leading her off the balcony, down a set of stairs that emptied into one of the most beautiful gardens she had ever seen. Lavender wisteria created a canopy over a dark stone path, and clusters of purple and red flowers grew wildly on either side of the trail.

The garden awed her and angered her.

She turned on Hades, pulling her hand from his. "You bastard!"

"Names, Persephone," he said.

"Don't you dare. This—this is beautiful!"

It made her heart ache, and was something she longed to create. She stared longer, finding new flowers—roses in an inky blue, peonies in pink, willows and trees with dark purple leaves.

"It is," he agreed.

"Why would you ask me to create life here?" She tried to keep her voice from sounding so despondent, but she couldn't manage it, standing at the center of her dream manifested outside of her head. He stared at her for a moment, and then, with a wave of his hand, the roses and peonies and willows were gone. In their place was nothing but desolate land. She looked at Hades.

"It is illusion," he said. "If it is a garden you wish to create, then it will truly be the only life here."

She stared half in awe, half in disgust at the land before her. So all this beauty was Hades' magic? And he maintained it effortlessly. He was truly a powerful god.

He called the illusion back, and they continued walking through the garden. As she followed Hades, she was reminded of the time she spent in the glass greenhouse where her mother's flowers bloomed so effortlessly and the promise she'd made never to return. Now she realized she would just trade one prison for another if she failed to fulfill the terms of their contract.

Finally, they came to a low, stone wall where a plot of land remained barren, and the soil at their feet was the color of ash.

"You may work here," he said.

"I still don't understand," Persephone said, and Hades looked at her. "Illusion or not, you have all of this beauty. Why demand this of me?"

"If you do not wish to fulfill the terms of our contract, you have only to say so, Lady Persephone," Hades said. "I can have a suite prepared for you in less than an hour."

"We do not get along well enough to be housemates, Hades." He looked amused, and she lifted her chin. "How often am I allowed to come here and work?"

"As often as you want," he said. "I know you are eager to complete your task."

She looked away, and then bent to scoop up a handful of the sand. It was silky and fell through her fingers like water. She considered how she would plant the garden. Her mother could create seeds and sprout them out of nothing. Persephone couldn't touch a plant without it wilting. Perhaps she could convince Demeter to give her a few of her own seedlings. Divine magic would have a better chance in this dirt than anything a mortal might offer.

She thought through her plan, and when she rose to her feet, she found Hades watching her. She was getting used to his gaze, but it still made her feel exposed. It didn't help that she only wore Hades' black robe and her thin, white dress.

"And...how shall I enter the Underworld?" She asked. "I'm assuming you don't wish me to come back the way I came."

"Hmm," he said, tilting his head to the side, as if considering something. She had only known him for three days, but had seen him do this before when he was particularly amused. It was a move he made when he already knew how he was going to act.

Even with that knowledge, she was surprised when he took her by the shoulders and pulled her flush against him. Her arms shot out, fitting against his chest. When his lips met hers, she lost her grip on reality. Her legs gave out, and Hades arms slipped around her, holding her tighter. His mouth was hot and consuming. He kissed her with everything—his lips and teeth and tongue—and she reciprocated with just as much passion, and though she knew she should not encourage him, her body had a mind of its own.

As her hands moved up his chest and around his neck, Hades made a sound deep in his throat that both thrilled and frightened her. Then they were moving, and she felt the stone wall at her back. When he lifted her off the ground, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was so much taller than her, and this position allowed him to trace her jaw with his lips, nip at her ear, and kiss down her neck. The sensation made her gasp, and she arched against him, driving her fingers through his hair, loosening the tie that held the dark strands in place, and when his hands moved under her dress, grazing soft, sensitive skin, she cried out, gripping his hair in her hands.

That's when Hades pulled away. His eyes were alight with a need she felt deep in her core, and they struggled to catch their breath. For a long moment, neither of them moved—Hades hands were still under her dress, gripping her thighs—and she knew it because neither of them were sure what to do. If she gave into this need, she wouldn't stop him, but she couldn't say how she would feel after and for some reason, she didn't want to regret Hades.

Finally, he lowered her to the ground. His dark hair fell well past his shoulders, and created a dark halo around his face.

"Once you enter Nevernight, you have only to snap your fingers, and you will be brought here."

The color drained from her face, and she stopped breathing for a moment. Of course, she thought. He was bestowing favor.In the aftermath of the kiss, Persephone felt ashamed. Why had she allowed this? Why had she allowed things to get so intense? She knew not to trust the God of the Underworld—not even his passion.

She tried to push him away, but the god didn't budge.

"Can't you offer favor another way?" She snapped.

He looked amused. "You didn't seem to mind."

She blushed and touched her tingling lips with shaking fingers. Hades eyes flashed, and for a moment, she thought he might pick up when they left off.

And she couldn't let that happen.

"I should go," she said.

Hades nodded once, then he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

Then Hades snapped his fingers. The world shifted, and they were in her room. It was still dark outside, but the clock beside her bed read five in the morning. She had an hour before she had to be up and ready for work.

"Persephone," Hades voice was a low rumble, and she met his gaze. "Never bring another mortal to my realm again, especially Adonis. Stay away from him."

She narrowed her eyes. "How do you know him?"

"That is not relevant."

She tried to draw away from him, but he kept her where she was, pressed against him.

"I work with him, Hades," she said. "Besides, you can't give me orders."

"I'm not giving you orders," he said. "I am asking."

"Asking implies there's a choice."

She wasn't sure it was possible, but Hades held her tighter. His face was inches from hers, and she found it hard to meet his eyes because her gaze kept falling to his lips—the memory of the kiss they'd shared in the garden, a phantom on her lips. She closed her eyes against it.

"You have a choice," he said. "But if you choose him, I will fetch you, and I might not let you leave the Underworld."

Her eyes flew open, and she glared at him.

"You wouldn't," she said between her teeth.

Hades chuckled, leaning in so that when he spoke, his breath caressed her lips. "Oh, darling. You don't know what I'm capable of."

Then he was gone.


	8. A Garden in the Underworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

Lexa sat across from Persephone outside The Yellow Daffodil. They'd walked to the bistro from their apartment to have breakfast before they went their separate ways—Persephone to the Library of Artemis and Lexa to Talaria Stadium to meet Adonis and his friends for a day of Trials.

Stay away from him. Hades voice echoed in her head, as if his mouth were against her ear. She shivered. Despite Hades warning, Persephone would have gone with Lexa, but she had a god to research, a garden to plant, and a bargain to win. Still, she wondered why Hades disapproved of Adonis? Did the King of the Underworld know his warning would only make her more curious?

"Your lips are bruised," Lexa said.

Persephone covered her mouth with her fingers. She'd tried to cover the discoloration with foundation and lipstick. 

"Who did you kiss?" Lexa asked. 

"Why do you think I kissed someone?" Persephone asked.

"I don't know that you kissed anyone. Maybe someone kissed you." Persephone flushed—someone had kissed her, but not for the reasons Lexa was thinking. He was just bestowing favor, Persephone reminded herself. He would do just about anything to ensure you don't disturb him again. That included offering her a shortcut to his realm.

She wouldn't let herself romanticize the God of the Dead.

Hades is the enemy, she reminded herself. He is yourenemy. He tricked you into a contract. He challenged you to use powers you don't have. He will imprison you if you fail to create life in the Underworld.

"I'm just guessing since you left the apartment at midnight last night and didn't come home until like five this morning."

"H...how did you know that?"

Lexa smiled, but Persephone could tell her friend was a little hurt by her sneakiness.

"I guess we both have secrets," she said and admitted, "I was up talking to Adonis. I heard you come in."

What she'd heard was Persephone tiptoeing into the kitchen for water after Hades had teleported to her bedroom.

"Oh. You and Adonis are talking?"

It was Lexa's turn to blush, and Persephone was glad she could redirect this conversation, even if she wasn't sure how to feel about her best friend dating her co-worker. Plus, she had yet to figure out why Hades disliked him. Was it simply that she had brought him to Nevernight or something more?

"It doesn't mean anything," she said, and knew Lexa was just trying to keep her expectations low. It had been a long time since Lexa had been interested in someone. She'd had fallen hard and fast for her first college boyfriend, a wrestler named Alec. He had been incredibly handsome and charming...until he wasn't. What Lexa had at first thought was protectiveness soon became controlling. Things escalated until one night he yelled at her for going out with Persephone. He accused her of cheating on him. At that point, she decided things had to end.

It was only after things ended that Lexa learned Alec hadn't been faithful to her at all.

The whole thing had broken her heart, and there was a time when Persephone wasn't sure Lexa would ever recover.

"We were making plans for today and just...kept talking," Lexa continued. "He's so interesting."

Persephone thought that was funny. She felt like Lexa was the most interesting person she'd ever met. The girl was a beauty queen with a sleeve of tattoos. She was also a witch and a gamer. She had an obsession with makeup, fashion, and the gods, in particular Hecate, whose cult she'd joined as soon as she came to college.

"Did you know he was adopted? It's why he became a journalist. He wants to find his biological parents."

Persephone shook her head. She didn't know anything about Adonis except that he worked at New Athens News, and had regular access to Nevernight, which was ironic considering Hades really didn't seem to like the mortal.

"I can't imagine what that's like. To exist in the world without really knowing who you are."

Lexa couldn't know how painful her words were. The bargain Hades had forced upon her had reminded Persephone just how she didn't belong.

Persephone took a coffee to go and then headed to the Library of Artemis. There were also several beautiful reading rooms named after the Nine Greek Muses. Persephone liked all of them, but she had always drawn to the Melpomene Room, which she entered now. Persephone wasn't sure why the room was named after the Muse of Tragedy, except that a statue of the goddess stood at the center of the oval room. Light streamed in through an oval glass ceiling, pouring over several long tables and study areas.

She'd come here in search of a book, and as she looked, she trailed her fingers over leather binding and gold lettering. Finally, she found what she was looking for: The Divine: Powers and Symbols.

She carried the volume to one of the tables and sat down, opening the dusty book, turning the pages until she found his name in bold letters across the top of the page.

Hades, God of the Underworld.

Just seeing his name made her heart race. The entry included a sketch of the God's profile which Persephone traced with the tips of her fingers. No one would recognize him in person from this picture because it was too dark, but she could see familiar features—the arch of his nose, the set of his jaw, the strands of his long hair falling to his shoulders.

Her eyes dropped to the information written on the rest of the page, which detailed how Hades became the God of the Underworld. After the defeat of the Titans, he and his two younger brothers drew lots—Hades was given the Underworld, Poseidon the Sea, and Zeus the Skies, with each given equal access over the Earth.

She often forgot that the three Gods had equal power over the Earth, mostly because Hades and Poseidon did not often venture outside of their own realms. Zeus' descent to the mortal world had been a reminder, and Hades and Poseidon were not going to stand by while their brother took control of a realm they all had access to. Still, Persephone had not considered what that meant for Hades' powers. Did he share some of her mother's abilities?

She continued reading and when she came to the list of Hades' powers, her eyes widened, and she couldn't tell if she was more afraid or awed by him.

Hades had may powers, but his primary and most powerful abilities were necromancy, including reincarnation, resurrection, transmigration, death sense, and soul removal. Because of his ownership of the earthly realm, he could also manipulate earth and it's elements, and had the ability to draw precious metals and jewels from the ground.

No wonder he was known as the Rich One, she thought.

Additional powers included charm—the ability to sway mortals and lesser-gods to his will, as well as invisibility.

Invisibility?

That made Persephone very nervous. She was going to have to withdraw a promise from the God that he would never use that power with her.

She turned the page and found information on Hades' symbols and the Underworld.

The narcissus are sacred to the Lord of the Dead. The flower, often in colors of white, yellow, or orange have a short, cup-shaped corona and grow in abundance in the Underworld. They are a symbol of rebirth. It is said Hades chose the flower to give the souls hope of what is to come as they are reincarnated.

Persephone sat back in her chair. This God did not seem like the God she'd met a few days ago. That God dangled hope before mortals in the form of riches. That god made a game out of pain. The one described in this passage sounded compassionate and kind. She wondered what had happened in the time since Hades had chosen his symbol.

I have had success, he'd said.

But what did that mean?

Persephone decided she had more questions for the God of the Dead.

Persephone finished reading the passage on the Underworld. She made a list of the flowers mentioned in the text—asphodels, aconite, polyanthus, narcissi--and then found a book on plant varieties which she used to take careful notes, making sure to include how to care for each plant and tree, grimacing when the instructions called for direct sunlight. Would Hades' muted sky be enough? If she were her mother, the light wouldn't matter. She could make a rose grow in a snowstorm.

Then again, if she were her mother, a garden would already be growing in the Underworld.

When Persephone was finished, she took her list to a flower shop and asked for seeds. When the clerk—an older man with wild, wispy hair and a long, white beard, came to the narcissi, he looked up at her and said, "We do not carry Hades' symbol here."

"Why not?" she asked, more curious than anything.

"My dear, few invoke the name of the King of the Dead, and when they do, they turn their heads."

"It sounds like you have no wish to join the dead in Asphodel," she said.

The shopkeeper paled, and Persephone left with a few extra flowers, a pair of gloves and a small shovel. She hoped the gloves would keep her touch from killing the seeds before she got them in the ground.

Soon after she left the shop, she found herself outside Nevernight for the third day in a row. It was early enough that no one was waiting outside to get into the club. As she approached, the doors opened, and as soon as was inside, she took a deep breath and snapped her fingers like Hades had shown her. The world shifted around her, and she found herself in the Underworld, in the same spot where Hades had kissed her days earlier.

Her head spun for a few moments. She had never teleported on her own, always using borrowed magic, usually her mother's but this time, it was Hades' magic that clung to her skin. It was unfamiliar but not unpleasant, and lingered on her tongue, smooth and rich like his kiss. She flushed at the memory and quickly turned her attention to the barren land at her feet and made a plan for how she would plant.

She would start near the wall and plant the aconite first, the tallest flower which would bloom purple. Then she moved onto the asphodel, which would bloom white. The polyanthus were next, and would grow in clusters of red. Once she had a plan, she lowered to her knees and started to dig. She settled the first seed into the ground and covered it with the thin soil.

One down.

Several more to go.

Persephone worked until her arms and knees hurt. Perspiration beaded across her forehead, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. When she was finished, she sat back on her heels and surveyed her work. She couldn't quite describe how she felt, staring at the grayish plot, except that something dark and uneasy edged its way into her thoughts.

What if she couldn't do this? What if she failed to meet the terms of this contract? Would she really be stuck here in the Underworld forever? Would her mother, a powerful goddess in her own right, fight for her freedom when she discovered what Persephone had done?

She pushed those thoughts aside. This was going to work.She might not be able to grow a garden with magic, but nothing was preventing her from trying it the mortal way...except her deadly touch. She would have to wait a few weeks to find out if the gloves worked.

She picked up the watering can she had bought at the flower shop and looked around. There had to be a place to fill it nearby. Her gaze fell on the garden wall. It might give her enough height to locate a fountain or a river.

Careful not to disturb her freshly planted seeds, she managed to scale the wall. Like everything else Hades' owned, it was obsidian and almost resembled a vicious volcanic eruption. She navigated the rough edges carefully, only falling once, but caught herself, cutting her palm.

She hissed at the stab of pain, closing her palm on sticky blood, and finally made it to the top of the wall.

"Oh."

Persephone had glimpsed the Underworld yesterday, and yet it still managed to surprise her. Beyond the wall was a field of tall, dark green grass. It stretched on for what seemed like miles before ending in what appeared to be a forest of cypress trees. Cutting through the lengthy grass was a wide and rushing river. From this distance, she couldn't quite make out the color of the water, but she knew it wasn't black like the river Styx. She was aware that there were several rivers in the Underworld, but she was too unfamiliar with its geography to even guess which one might be in the field beyond.

Still, it didn't really matter—water was water.

Persephone climbed down from the wall and started across the field, watering can in hand. The tall grass scraped across her bare arms and legs. Mingled with the grass were strange orange wildflowers she had never seen before. Now and then a breeze stirred the air. It smelled like fire, and though it wasn't unpleasant, it was a reminder that, though she was surrounded by beauty, she was still in the Underworld.

As she waded through the grass, she came upon a bright red ball.

Strange, Persephone thought. It was a larger-than-normal ball, almost the size of her head, and as she bent to pick it up, she heard a low growl. When she looked up, a pair of black eyes stared back.

She screamed and stumbled back, ball in hand. One—no, three, black Dobermans stood before her. Then she noticed their gazes were focused on the red ball she held in her hand. Their growls turned into whines the longer she held the ball.

"Oh," she said, looking at the ball. "You want to play fetch?"

The three dogs sat tall, tongues falling out of their mouths. They were powerful looking animals with sleek, dark coats and cropped ears.

Persephone threw the ball and the three bolted. She laughed as she watched them fall over each other as they went. It wasn't long before the three returned, the ball in the jowls of the one in the center. The dog dropped it at her feet and then the three sat back obediently, waiting for her to throw it again. She wondered who had trained them.

She tossed the ball again and continued until she reached the river. Unlike the Styx, the water in this river was clear and ran over rocks that looked like moonstones. It was beautiful, but just as she moved to draw water, a hand clamped down on her shoulder and drew her back. "No!"

Persephone fell and looked up into the face of a Goddess.

"Do not draw water from the Lethe," she said. Despite the command, her voice was warm. The Goddess had long black hair, half of it was pulled back, and the rest fell over her shoulders, past her waist. She dressed in ancient clothing—a crimson peplos and a black cloak. At her temples, a set of short, black horns protruded from her head, and a gold crown set atop her head. She had a beautiful, but stern face--arched brows accentuated almond-shaped eyes set in a square face.

Behind her were the three Dobermans.

"You are a goddess," Persephone said, getting to her feet and the woman smiled.

"Hecate," She said, bowing her head.

Persephone knew a lot about Hecate because of Lexa. She was the Goddess of Witchcraft and Magic. She was also one of the few Goddesses Demeter actually admired. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that she wasn't an Olympian. In any case, Hecate was known as a protector of women and the oppressed—a nurturer in her own way, even though she preferred solidarity.

"I am—"

"Persephone," She said, talking over her and smiled. "I have been waiting to meet you."

"You have?"

"Oh yes," and then she offered a laugh, which seemed to make her glow. "Since you fell into the Styx and had Lord Hades in an uproar."

Persephone blushed.

"I'm sorry I scared you, but, as I am sure you've learned, the rivers of the Underworld are dangerous, even to a Goddess," Hecate explained. "The Lethe will steal your memories. Hades should have told you that. I will scold him later."

Persephone laughed at the thought of Hecate scolding Hades. "Can I watch?"

"Oh, I would only think to reprimand him in front of you, my dear."

They smiled at each other and then Persephone said, "Um, but do you happen to know where I might find some water? I just planted a garden."

"Come," She said, and as she turned, she picked up the big, red ball and threw it. The three dogs took off through the grass. "I see you have met Hades' dogs."

"They are truly his?"

"Oh yes. He loves animals. He has the three dogs, Cerberus, Typhon and Orthrus and four horses, Orphnaeus, Aethon, Nycteus, and Alastor."

Hecate lead Persephone to a fountain buried deep in Hades gardens.

As she filled the container she asked, "Do you live here?"

"I live in many places," she said. "But this is my favorite."

"Really?" Persephone was surprised by that.

"Yes," Hecate smiled and looked out at the landscape. "I enjoy it here. The souls and the lost, they are my loves, and Hades is kind enough to have given me a cottage."

"It is far more beautiful than I expected," Persephone said.

"It is to all who come here," Hecate smiled. "Let's water your garden, shall we?"

Hecate and Persephone returned to the garden and water the seeds. Hecate pointed to several of the makers Persephone had used to remember what and where she had planted. The Goddess wanted to know the colors and names. When she pointed to the anemone and asked Persephone why she had chosen that flower in the color she had responded, "Hades wore one in his suit the night I met him."

Then she blushed at having admitted something so...personal.

Persephone gathered her tools, and Hecate showed her where to store the items—in a small alcove near the palace.

After, Hecate took Persephone on a tour of the grounds beyond Hades' obsidian palace. They walked along a slate path among tall shoots of grass.

"Asphodel!" Persephone exclaimed, recognizing the flowers mixed among the grass. They had long stems and a spike of white flowers. Persephone loved them, and the farther they walked, the more abundant they became.

"Yes, we are close to Asphodel," Hecate said.

"You mean the Asphodel meadows?"

"There is the meadow and there is the valley," she said.

"What is the difference?"

"The Meadow is for souls who drink from the Lethe, the ones who will live again."

Hecate held out her hand, as if to stop Persephone from moving too far forward. When she looked down, she stood at the edge of a steep canyon. The asphodel grew right up to the edge of the incline, making the chasm almost impossible to see as they approached.

Persephone wasn't sure what she expected from Asphodel, but she guessed she'd always thought of death as a sort of aimless existence—a time where souls occupied space but had no purpose. At the bottom of this canyon, however, there was life.

A field of green stretched for miles, flanked by sloping hills in the distance. Scattered over the emerald plane were several small homes. She was surprised to observe they all appeared to be slightly different—some were crafted of wood and others of obsidian brick. Smoke rose from some chimneys, flowers bloomed in a few window boxes, and warm light illuminated windows. A wide path cut right through the center of the field, and it was crowded with souls and colorful tents.

"Are they...celebrating something?" Persephone asked.

Hecate smiled. "It is market day," she said. "Would you like to explore?"

"Very much," Persephone said.

Hecate took the young goddess' hand and teleported. She was less dizzy when their feet landed on the ground inside the valley.

When the Goddess looked up from the valley, she could see Hades' palace rising tall toward his muted sky. She realized it was similar to the way Nevernight towered over the mortals in the world above. It was both beautiful and ominous, and Persephone wondered what feelings the sight of their King's tower inspired.

The path they followed through Asphodel was dirty, but lined with lanterns. Souls wondered about, looking as solid as living humans. Now that Persephone was on ground level, she saw that the colorful tents were filled with a variety of goods—apples and oranges, figs and pomegranates. Others held beautifully embroidered scarves and woven blankets.

"You are puzzled?" Hecate asked.

"I just...where does all this stuff come from?" Persephone asked.

"It is made by the souls."

"Why?" Persephone was confused. The dead did not need any of this stuff.

"I think you misunderstand what it means to be dead," Hecate said. "Souls still have feeling and perception. It pleases them to live a familiar existence."

"Lady Hecate!" Once one of the souls spotted the goddess, others did, too and approached. They bowed and touched her hands. Hecate smiled and touched every soul. She introduced Persephone as the Goddess of Spring. At that, the souls seemed confused.

"We do not know the Goddess of Spring." Of course, they didn't—no one did. Except, apparently Hades, Hecate, and the rest of the Underworld now.

"She is the daughter of the Goddess of Harvest," Hecate explained. "She will be spending time with us here in the Underworld."

Persephone blushed. She felt compelled to offer an explanation, but what was she supposed to say?I entered into a game with your Lord and he held me to a contract I must fulfill? She decided staying silent was best.

She and Hecate walked for a long while, exploring the market. Souls offered them everything—fine silk and jewels, fresh breads and chocolate. Then a young girl ran up to Persephone with a small, white flower. She held it out in her pale hand, bright-eyed, looking as alive as ever. It was a strange sight, and it made Persephone's heart feel heavy.

Persephone's gaze fell to the flower. She hesitated because if she touched the petal, it would shrivel. Instead, she bent and allowed her soul to thread the flower into her hair. After, several more souls of all ages approached her to offer flowers.

By the time she and Hecate left Asphodel, a crown of flowers decorated Persephone's head and her face hurt from smiling so much.

"The crown suits you," she said.

"They are just flowers," Persephone said.

"Accepting them from the souls means a lot," she said.

Persephone and Hecate continued toward the palace, and as they crested a hill, Persephone stopped short, finding Hades in the clearing. He was shirtless and chiseled, sweat glistened over his defined back and biceps. His arm was back as he prepared to throw the red ball his three hounds had brought her earlier.

For a moment, she felt panicked, like she was intruding or seeing something she wasn't meant to see—this moment of abandon where he was engaged in something so...mortal.

It ignited something low in her stomach, a fluttering that spread to her chest.

Hades threw the ball, his strength and power evident in how impossibility far it went.

The hounds bolted.

And then she heard Hades' laugh, deep and loud, and she froze. It was warm like his skin and echoed in her chest.

Then the God turned and his eyes found Persephone immediately, as if he was drawn to her. Her eyes widened as she took him in. His skin was sun-kissed and her eyes trailed from his broad shoulders to the deep v of his abs. When her eyes traveled back up, she found Hades smirking, and she quickly averted her eyes, blushing.

Minthe marched forward, like she wasn't even fazed by Hades' bare chest.

"You know they never behave for me after you spoil them," Hecate said.

Hades grinned. "They grow lazy under your care, Hecate."

Then his eyes slide to Persephone. "I see you have met the Goddess of Spring."

"Yes, and she is quite lucky I did. How dare you not warn her to stay away from the Lethe!"

Hades eyes widened, and Persephone tried not to smile at Hecate's tone, and when the Goddess of Magic was finished lecturing the God of the Dead, Hades eyes fell on Persephone. She felt flushed under his gaze.

"It seems I owe you an apology, Lady Persephone."

Persephone wanted to tell him he owed her far more—but she couldn't make her mouth worked. The ways Hades looked at her took her breath away. She swallowed hard, and was relieved when a horn sounded in the distance, and Persephone watched both Hecate and Hades turn in its direction. "I am being summoned," she said.

"Summoned?"

Hecate smiled. "The judges are in need of my advice."

Persephone didn't understand, and Hecate didn't explain. "My dear, call the next time you are in the Underworld. We'll return to Asphodel."

"I would love that," Persephone said.

With that, Hecate vanished, leaving her alone with Hades.

"Why would the Judges need Hecate's advice?"

Hades cocked his head to the side, as if he were trying to decide whether he should tell her the truth.

"Hecate is the lady of Tartarus," Hades explained, and particularly good at deciding on punishments for the wicked."

Persephone shivered. "Where is Tartarus?"

"I would tell you if I thought you would use the knowledge to avoid it."

"You think I want to visit your torture chamber?"

He leveled his dark gaze upon her.

"I think you are curious," he said. "And eager to prove I am as the world assumes, a deity to be feared."

"You are afraid I will write about what I see."

He chuckled. "Fear is not the word, darling."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course, you feared nothing."

Hades responded by reaching to pluck a flower from her hair. "Did you enjoy Asphodel?"

"I did," she said smiling. She couldn't help it. Everyone had been so kind. "Your souls...they seem so happy."

"You are surprised?"

"Well you aren't exactly known for your kindness," Persephone said, and then regretted the harshness of her words.

Hades' jaw tightened, and then he said, "I'm not known for my kindness to mortals. There is a difference."

"Is that why you play games with their lives?" She asked.

Hades' eyes narrowed, and she could feel the tension rise between them, like the restless waters of the Styx.

"I seem to recall advising that I would answer no more of your questions."

Persephone's mouth fell open. "You cannot be serious."

"As the dead," he said.

"But...how will I get to know you?"

He tilted his head to the side, that stupid smirk on his face. "You want to get to know me?"

She averted her gaze, and her cheeks flushed. "I'm being forced to spend time here, right? Shouldn't I get to know my jailer better?"

"So dramatic," he said, but he was quiet for a moment, considering.

"Oh no," Persephone said.

Hades looked surprised. "What?"

"I know that look."

He raised a curious brow. "What look?"

"You get this...look. When you know what you want."

She felt ridiculous saying that out loud.

His eyes darkened and his voice lowered. "Do I?" He paused. "Can you guess what I want?"

"I'm not a mind reader!"

"Pity," he said and then, "if you would like to ask questions, then I propose a game."

"No. I'm not falling for that again."

"No contract," he said. "No favors owed, just questions answered—like youwant."

She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. "Fine. But I get to pick the game."

He hadn't expected that—and the surprised showed on his face. Then he grinned. "Very well, Goddess."


	9. Primal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

"This game sounds horrible," Hades complained standing in the middle of his study—a beautiful room with floor to ceiling windows, and a large obsidian fireplace. He'd found a shirt in the time they'd returned to the palace, and Persephone was only glad because his nakedness would have proved a distraction during their game.

"You're just mad because you haven't played."

"It sounds simple enough—rock beats scissors, scissors beats paper, and paper beats rock—how exactly does paper beat rock?"

"Paper covers rock," Persephone said.

Hades did not appreciate her reasoning and the goddess shrugged. "Why is an ace a wildcard?"

"Because it's the rules."

"Well, it's a rule that paper covers rock," she said. "Ready?"

They lifted their hands, and Persephone couldn't help giggling. Witnessing the God of the Dead playing rock, paper, scissors should be on every mortal's bucket list.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors, shoot!" They said in unison.

"Yes!" Persephone squealed. "Rock beats scissors!"

She mimicked smashing Hades' scissors with her fist—the God looked confused.

"Damn. I thought you'd choose paper."

"Why?"

"Because you just sang paper's praises."

"Only because you asked why paper covers rock. This isn't poker, Hades—it's not about deception."

He met her gaze, eyes burning. "Isn't it?"

She looked away, drawing in a breath before she asked, "You said you had successes before with your contracts. Tell me about them."

Hades moved to a bar cabinet across the room. He poured his drink of choice—whisky, and took a seat on his black leather sofa.

"What is there to tell? I have offered many mortals the same contract over the years—in exchange for money, fame, love—they must give up their vice. Some mortals are stronger than others and conquer their habit."

"Conquering a disease is not about strength, Hades."

"No one said anything about disease."

"Addition is a disease. It cannot be cured. It must be managed."

"It is managed," he argued.

"How? With more contracts?"

"That is another question."

She lifted her hands, and they played another round. When she drew rock and he scissors, she didn't celebrate, she demanded, "How, Hades?"

"I do not ask them to give everything up at once. It is a slow process."

They played again, and this time, Hades won. "What would you do?"

She blinked. "What?"

"What would you change? To help them?"

Her mouth fell open a little at his question, and then she said. "First, I would not allow a mortal to gamble their soul away. Second, if you are going to request a bargain, challenge them to go to rehab if they're an addict—and do one better—pay for it. If I had all the riches in the world as you, I'd spend it helping people."

He studied her a moment.

"And if they relapsed?"

"Then what?" She asked. "Life is hard out there, Hades, and sometimes living it is penance enough. Mortals need hope, not threats of punishment."

Silence stretched between them, and then Hades lifted his hands—another game. This time, when Hades won, he took her wrist and pulled her to him. He laid her palm flat, his fingers brushing the bandage Hecate had helped her tie.

"What happened?"

She offered a breathy laugh and said, "It's nothing compared to bruised ribs."

Hades face hardened, and he said nothing. After a moment, he pressed a kiss to her palm and she felt the healing warmth of his lips seal her skin. It happened so quick, she had no time to pull away.

"Why does it bother you so much?" She wasn't sure why she was whispering. She guessed it was because this all felt so intimate—the way they sat, facing each other on the touch, leaning so close she could kiss him.

Instead of answering, he placed a hand on the side of her face and Persephone swallowed thickly. If he kissed her now, she wouldn't be responsible for what happens next.

Then the door to Hades' study opened, and Minthe entered the room. She wore an electric blue dress that hugged her curves in ways that left little to the imagination. Persephone was surprised by the shock of jealousy that ricocheted through her, and she had a thought that if she were mistress of the Underworld, Minthe would always wear turtlenecks and knock before she entered any room.

The flaming-haired nymph stopped short when she saw Persephone sitting beside Hades, her anger obvious. A smiled curled Persephone's lips at the thought that Minthe might be jealous.

The god withdrew his hand from her face, and asked in an irritated voice, "Yes, Minthe?"

"My Lord, Charon has requested your presence in the throne room."

"Has he said why?"

"He has caught an intruder."

Persephone looked confused. "An intruder? How? Would they not drown in the Styx?"  
"If Charon caught an intruder is likely he attempted to sneak onto his ferry," he said.

Hades stood to his full height and held out his hand. "Come, you will join me."

Persephone took his hand—a move that Minthe watched with fire in her eyes. She twisted on her heels and left the study ahead of them. They followed her down the hall and to his throne room. It was cavernous, the ceilings high. Rounded glass windows let in muted light. Black flags bearing images of gold narcissus flanked either side of the room. Hades throne sat upon a precipice. Like him, it was sculpted and looked as if it were composed of thousands of pieces of shattered and sharp obsidian.

A man with mocha skin stood there near the precipice. He was draped in white and crowned with gold. His hair was long and two braids hung over his shoulders, clamped with gold. His dark eyes first fell upon Hades, and then to her.

Persephone tested Hades' grip on her hand, but the God only held her tighter, guiding her past he Ferryman and up the steps to his throne. Hades waved his hand, and a smaller throne materialized beside his own. Persephone hesitated.

"You are a goddess. You will sit in a throne," he said, guiding her to be seated. It was only then that he released her hand. He took his place upon his throne. She thought for a moment that he might drop his glamour, but he didn't.

"Charon, to what do I owe the interruption?" Hades asked

"You're Charon?"

He looked nothing like the drawings in her Ancient Greek textbook. He was either an old man, a skeleton, or a figure cloaked in black. This version almost resembled a god—beautiful and charming.

Charon grinned, and Hades jaw tightened.

"I am indeed, my lady," he said, bowing his head.

"Please call me Persephone," she said.

"My lady will do," Hades said sharply, and Charon's smile widened before bowing his head in an effort to gain his composure.

"My Lord, a man named Orpheus was caught sneaking onto my ferry. He wishes for an audience with you."

"Show him in. I am eager to return to my conversation with Lady Persephone."

Charon snapped his fingers, and a man appeared before them on his knees, hands tied behind his back. Persephone inhaled, surprised by the manner in which he'd been restrained. The man's curly hair was plastered to his forehead, still dripping with river water from the Styx. He looked defeated.

"Is he dangerous?" Persephone asked.

Charon looked at Hades, and so Persephone did, too.

"You can see to his soul. Is he dangerous?" She asked again.

She could tell by the way the veins in his neck rose that he was gritting his teeth. Finally, he said, "No."

"Then release him from those bindings."

Hades eyes bore into hers. Finally, he turned to the man and waved his hand. When the bonds disappeared, he fell forward, hitting the floor. As he climbed to his feet, he looked at Persephone. "Thank you, my lady."

"Why have you come to the Underworld?" Hades asked. Persephone was impressed. The mortal kept Hades' gaze, and showed no sign of fear.

"I have come for my wife," he said. Hades did not respond, and the man continued. "I wish to propose a contract—my soul in exchange for hers."

"I do not bargain for souls, mortal," the god answered.

"My Lord, please—"

Hades held up his hand, and then the man turned his gaze to Persephone, pleading.

"Do not look upon her for aid, mortal. She cannot help you."

Persephone took that as a challenge.

"Tell me of your wife," Persephone said. She felt Hades gaze burn into her.

"She died a day after we married."

"I am sorry. How did she die?"

"She just went to sleep and never woke up," his voice broke.

"You lost her so suddenly," Persephone felt such sympathy for the man, who stood broken before them.

"The Fates cut her life-thread," Hades said. "I cannot return her to the living, and I do not offer life as a bargain."

Persephone's fists curled. She wanted to argue with the God in that moment—before Minthe and Charon and this mortal. Is that not what he had done during The Great War? Bargained with the Gods to bring back their heroes?

"Lord Hades, please--" Orpheus choked. "I love her."

Something hard and cold settled in her stomach when she heard Hades laugh—a single harsh bark.

"You may have loved, mortal, but you did not come here for her. You came for yourself," Hades reclined in his throne. "I will not grant your request. Charon."

The daimon's name was a command, and with a snap of his wrist, both he and Orpheus were gone. Persephone seethed. She was surprised when Hades broke the silence.

"You wish to tell me to make an exception."

"You wish to tell me why it's not possible," she countered.

His lips twitched. "I cannot make an exception for one person, Persephone. Do you know how often I am petitioned to return souls from the Underworld?"

She imagined often, but still.

"You barely offered him a voice," she said. "They were only married for a day, Hades."

"Tragic," he said.

She glared at him. "Are you so heartless?"

"They are not the first to have a tragic love story, Persephone, nor will they be the last, I imagine."

"You have brought mortals back for less," she said.

Hades looked at her. "Love is a selfish reason to bring the dead back."

"And war isn't?"

Hades' eyes darkened.

"You speak of what you do not know, Goddess."

"Tell me how you picked sides, Hades," she said.

"I didn't."

"Just like you didn't offer Orpheus another option. Would it have been relinquishing your control to offer him even a glimpse of his wife, safe and happy in the Underworld?"

"How dare you speak to Lord Hades—" Minthe began, but she stumbled when Persephone glared at her. She wished she had powers because she would turn Minthe into a plant.

"Enough," Hades stood, Persephone followed. "We are done here."

"Shall I show Persephone out?" Minthe asked.

"You may call her Lady Persephone," Hades said. "And no. Weare not finished."

Minthe did not take her dismissal well, but she left, her heels clicking against the marble as she went. Persephone watched Minthe leave until she felt Hades' fingers under her chin. He lifted her eyes to his.

"It seems you have a lot of opinions on how I manage my realm."

"You showed him no compassion," she said. He looked at her for a moment, but said nothing and she wondered what he was thinking. "Worse you mocked the love he had for his wife."

"I questioned his love, I did not mock it."

"Who are you to question love?"

"A god, Persephone."

She glared at him. "All of your power and you do nothing with it but hurt." He flinched at that and she continued. "How can you be so passionate and not believe in love?"

Hades offered a humorless laugh. "Because passion doesn't need love, darling."

Persephone knew just as well as he did that lust fueled the passion they shared, and yet she was surprised and angered by his response. Why? He had not treated her with compassion and she was a goddess. Perhaps she had hoped to see him moved by Orpheus' plea as she had been. Maybe she had hoped to see a different god in the moment—one that would prove all her assumptions wrong.

And yet, it had only confirmed them.

"You are a ruthless God," she said, and snapped her fingers, leaving the God alone in his throne room.


	10. Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

Persephone arrived at the Acropolis early on Monday. She wanted to start her article, and Hades had given her more than enough to work with during her visit to the Underworld. She was still angry with Hades for how he had treated Orpheus. She could still hear his bitter laugh at the poor man's expression of love for his deceased wife, and it made her feel cold.

At least he had shown his true nature—and he had done so at the precise instant she had begun to think he possessed a conscious.

The Fates must be on her side, she thought.

When she stepped off the elevator on her floor, she found Adonis standing at the front with Valerie. He was leaning over her desk chatting. They seemed surprised when she arrived, and Persephone felt like she was intruding on a private moment.

"Persephone, you're here early." Adonis cleared his throat and straightened.

"Just hoping to get a head start. I have a lot to do," she said, and passed them, heading straight for her desk.

Adonis followed. "How'd Nevernight go?"

She froze for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"Hades invited you to Nevernight before we left the interview. How did it go?"

Oh, right. You are too paranoid, Persephone, she thought.

"It was fine," she answered, stowing her purse and opening her laptop.

"I thought he might convince you not to write about him."

Persephone took a seat. She hadn't considered that Hades' intention in inviting her on a tour of the Underworld might be a tactic to keep her from writing about him.

She looked up at Adonis and answered. "At this point, nothing could convince me not to write about him. Even Hades himself."

Especially Hades. Every time he opened his mouth she found another reason to dislike him, even if that mouth inflamed her.

Adonis smiled, oblivious to her treacherous thoughts. "You're going to make a great journalist, Persephone." He took a step back and pointed at her. "Don't forget to send me the article. You know, when you're finished."

"Right," she said. He'd asked to see the article in exchange for sending her his notes, and she was happy to do so. She wanted to learn, and she was determined to prove herself.

When she was alone, she attempted to sort out her thoughts on the God of the Dead. So far, she felt like she'd seen two sides to him. One was a manipulative, powerful god who'd been exiled from the world so long, he didn't seem to understand people. That same god had bound her to a contract with the very hands he'd used to heal her. He'd been so careful and gentle until it came to kissing, and then his passion was barely restrained.

It was like he starved for her.

But that couldn't be true—because he was a god and he had lived for centuries which meant centuries of experience and she was only obsessing over this because she had none.

She hung her head in her hands, frustrated with herself. She needed to reignite the anger she felt when Hades had so arrogantly admitted to abusing his power under the pretense that he was helping mortals. Her eyes fell to the notes she'd taken after interviewing Hades. She'd written so fast, the words were hardly legible, but after a few carful readings, she was able to piece it together.

If it is help Hades truly wants to offer, he should challenge the addict to rehab. Why not go a step further and pay for it?

She sat up a little straighter and typed that out, feeling the anger spark in her bloodstream again. It was like flame to an accelerant, and soon her fingers flew across the keys, adding word after angry word.

I see the soul. What burdens it, what corrupts it, what destroys it—and challenge it.

Those words pierced all the wrong parts of her. What was it like to be the God of the Underworld? To only see the struggle, the pain, and the vices of others?

It sounded miserable.

He must be miserable, she decided. Tired of being the God of the Dead, he inserted himself in the fate of mortal lives for entertainment. What did he have to lose?

Nothing.

She stopped typing, and sat back, taking a deep breath.

She had never felt so many emotions about a single person before. She was angry with him, and curious, caught between surprise and disgust at the things he had created and the things he said. At war with both of those was the extreme attraction she felt when she was with him. How could she want him? He represented the opposite of everything she'd dreamed of in her whole life. He was her jailer when all she'd wanted was freedom.

Except that he had freed something inside her.

Something long-repressed and never explored.

Passion and lust and desire—probably all the things Hades looked for in a burdened soul.

She flexed her fingers over the keyboard. She started to imagine what it would be like to kiss him with all this anger in her veins.

Stop!She commanded herself, biting down hard on her lip. This is ridiculous.

Hades is the enemy.

He is your enemy.

He only kissed her to bestow favor so she wouldn't cause any chaos for him. More than likely, her near-death experience in the Underworld had taken him away from important things.

Like Minthe.

She rolled her eyes and focused on her screen again, reading the last line she'd typed.

If this is the God we are presented with in our life, what God will we meet upon our death? What hopes can we have of a happy afterlife?

Those words stung, and she knew she was probably being a little unfair. After touring part of the Underworld, it was clear Hades cared about his realm and those who occupied it. Why else would he go through the trouble of maintaining such a grand illusion?

Because it likely benefits him, she reminded herself. It's obvious he likes pretty things, Persephone. Why wouldn't he cultivate a pretty realm?

She was interrupted from her work when her desk phone rang. The sound scared her, and she jumped, quickly picking up the receiver to silence the sound.

"Persephone speaking," she said. Her heart was still racing, and she took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Persephone, it's Valerie. I think your mother is here?"

Her mother? Her racing heart fell into her stomach. What was Demeter doing here? She worried her lip for a moment—had Demeter found out about her visit to the Underworld over the weekend? She recalled her mother's words in the Garden of the Gods—Need I remind you a condition of your time here was that you stay away from the gods. EspeciallyHades. She still hadn't figured out how her mother knew she was at Nevernight, but she assumed the Goddess of Harvest probably had a spy among those at Hades' club.

"I'll be right up." Persephone managed to keep her voice even.

It was easy to spot Demeter. She looked as close to her Divine form as possible, maintaining her sun-kissed glow and bright eyes. Today she wore a light pink sundress and white heels.

"My flower!" Demeter approached her with open arms, pulling Persephone into a hug.

"Mother," Persephone pushed away. "What are you doing here?"

Demeter looked surprised. "It's Monday."

It took a moment for Persephone to realize that was Demeter's answer, and then another moment to remember what Monday meant.

Oh no.

The color drained from Persephone's face.

How could she have forgotten? Every Monday she and her mother had lunch, but with everything that had happened in the last few days, it completely slipped her mind.

"There is a lovely café down the street," Demeter continued, but Persephone sensed the tightness in her voice. She knew Persephone had forgotten, and she didn't like it. "I thought we might try it today. What do you think?"

Persephone thought that she didn't want to be alone with her mother. Not to mention she had just gained the momentum needed to write this article about Hades. If she stopped now, she might not finish.

"Mother, I'm...so sorry." Those words felt like glass coming out of her mouth. They were a lie, of course. She wasn't sorry for what she was about to say. "I'm really busy today. Can we reschedule."

Demeter blinked. "Reschedule?"

She said the word like she had never heard it before. Her mother hated when things didn't go her way, and Persephone had never asked to reschedule. She'd always remembered lunch like she'd always remembered her mother's rules—two things she'd ignored in the last week.

She knew her mother was making a list of offenses she had committed against her and it was just a matter of time before Demeter made her pay.

"I'm so sorry, mother," Persephone said again.

Her mother finally met her gaze. The Goddess of Harvest was furious, and yet she managed in a perfectly flat tone, "Another time, then."

Demeter turned on her heels without saying goodbye and left.

Persephone released the breath she'd been holding. She'd spent all this time preparing to fight with her mother, and now that the adrenaline was gone, she felt exhausted.

"Wow, your mother is beautiful," Valerie's comment drew Persephone's gaze. The girl had a dreamy look on her face. "It's too bad you couldn't go to lunch with her."

"Yeah," Persephone said.

She made her way back to her desk slowly, weighed down by a cloud of guilt until she noticed Adonis standing behind her chair, looking at her laptop screen.

"Adonis," she said, and slammed her laptop closed as she approached. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, hey, Persephone," he smiled. "Just reading your article."

"It's not finished." She tried to remain calm, but it was hard. She felt like he'd just invaded her privacy.

"I think it's good," he said. "You've really got something."

"Thanks, but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't look at my computer, Adonis," she said.

He sort of laughed. "I'm not going to steal it if that's what you're worried about."

"I told you I'd send the article when I was finished."

He put his hands up and stepped away from her desk. "Hey, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," she said between her teeth. She hated when people told her to calm down. It was disparaging and only made her angrier.

"I didn't mean anything by it."

"I don't really care what you meant," she snapped.

Adonis was finally silent. She guessed he realized he wasn't going to be able to charm his way out of this one.

"Everything okay out here?" Demetri appeared at his door. Persephone glared at Adonis.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Adonis said.

"Persephone?" Demetri asked, looking at her expectantly.

She should have told him no, that in fact, everything was not fine—that she was balancing an impossible contract with the God of the Underworld and hiding the fact from her mother, who would ensure she never saw the gleaming skyscrapers of New Athens again if she found out. On top of that, this mortal seemed to think it was perfectly acceptable to read her personal thoughts—because that's what this was, a draft of an article she was planning.

And maybe that's why she was so angry.

Because the words she'd written were raw, angry, and impassioned. They made her vulnerable and if she opened her mouth to contradict Adonis, she wasn't sure what would come out.

She took a deep breath before forcing the words out of her mouth, "Yeah, everything's fine."

And when she saw the smug expression on Adonis' face, she got the sense she'd regret lying.

***

A few days later, Persephone was late getting to Nevernight. Her study group had run over, and though she was tired, she knew she needed to check on her garden. The dirt in the Underworld held moisture like the desert, which meant she had to water her garden everyday if she wanted it to have a chance in hell of surviving.

She stepped off the bus in yoga pants and a tank. She'd pulled her long hair into a messy bun at the start of her study session and hadn't bothered to even look in the mirror. She was only thinking about it now because a line of glamorous people were waiting to enter Hades' club and staring at her like she had talons and wings.

You aren't here to impress anyone, she reminded herself. Just get in there and get to the Underworld as soon as possible.

She hadn't wanted to waste time running home to change just to water a garden, and the thought of squeezing into a dress and heels at this point in the day made her cringe. Hades would just have to deal with it.

She adjusted the straps of her heavy backpack, wincing at the soreness in her shoulders, and marched toward the door.

Makennon emerged from the dark. He wore a scowl until he recognized her and then a charming, yellow smile spread across his face.

"My lady—I mean, Persephone," he said, reaching for the door.

"Good evening, Makennon." She grinned at the ogre as she passed into the club.

Persephone paused in the dark foyer. She preferred not to enter the club proper, and decided to teleport. She snapped her fingers and expected to feel the familiar shift in the air around her.

But nothing happened.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

Frustrated, she decided she would go to Hades office and enter the Underworld there. She kept her head down as she cut through the packed floor of the club. She knew people were staring. She could feel her face growing flush with their judgement.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder. She turned, expecting to find an ogre or another one of Hades' employees. She imagined they were stopping her because of the way she was dressed. An argument was poised on the tip of her tongue, but when she turned, she looked into a familiar pair of gold eyes.

"Hermes," she said, relieved. Even glamoured up, he was ridiculously handsome. His golden hair was perfectly styled—shorn on the sides, long curls on the top. He wore a white shirt and grey pants, a drink already in hand.

"Sephy!" he exclaimed. "What are you wearing?"

She looked down at herself, though she didn't need to. She knew perfectly well what she was wearing.

"I just came from class."

"College chic," he raised his golden brows. "Hot."

She rolled her eyes and twisted away from him, making her way toward the steps. The God of Trickery followed.

"What are you doing here?" Persephone asked.

"Well, I am the messenger of the Gods," he said.

"No, what are you doing here? On the floor of Nevernight?" she clarified.

"Gods gamble, too, Sephy," he answered.

"Don't call me that," she said. "And why would gods gamble with Hades?"

"For the thrill," Hermes said with a mischievous smile.

Persephone topped the stairs with Hermes in tow.

"Where are we going, Sephy?"

She thought it was funny that he included himself in that statement.

"Iam going to Hades office," she answered.

"He won't be in there," Hermes said and it occurred to her that perhaps Hermes didn't know about her and Hades' bargain.

She looked at the god, and though she wasn't here to see Hades, she still wondered aloud, "Then where is he?"

Hermes looked amused. "He is reviewing propositions for contracts across the way."

Persephone's jaw tightened, frustrated. Of course, he is, she thought.

"I'm not here for Hades," she said, and hurried ahead to Hades office. Once inside, she dropped her back pack on the couch and rolled her shoulders, rubbing at the pain.

She looked up to find Hermes at the bar. He picked up various bottles, reading the labels. Whatever he had in his hands must have been appealing because he unscrewed it and poured it into an empty glass.

"Should you be doing that?" she asked.

The god shrugged. "Hades owes me, right? I saved your life."

Persephone blushed, looking away.

"I owe you," she said. "Not Hades."

"Careful, goddess," Hades said. "One bargain with a god is enough, don't you think?"

She startled. "You know?"

Hermes smiled and only said, "Sephy, I wasn't born yesterday."

"You must think I'm incredibly stupid," she said.

"No," he said. "I think you were lured by Hades' charms."

"So, you agree that Hades has wrong me?"  
"No," he said. "I'm saying you're attracted to Hades."

Persephone rolled her eyes and turned from the god. She crossed Hades' office and tried the invisible door behind his desk, but her hands didn't sink into the surface like last time.

Her way into the Underworld was barred. Had he revoked her favor because she'd brought Adonis to Nevernight? Or was he angry because of how she'd left him in his throne room a few days before? Hadn't he bestowed favor so she wouldn't have to bother him?

The doors to Hades office rattled. Hermes grabbed Persephone and dragged her toward the mirror over the mantle. She resisted, but Hermes pressed his lips close to her hear and said, "Trust me, you'll want to see this."

He snapped his fingers, and Persephone felt her skin tighten across her bones. It was the strangest feeling and it didn't go away, even when they were inside the mirror. The sensation was like being behind a waterfall and looking out at the hazy world.

She started to ask if they could be seen, but Hermes pressed a finger to his lips and said, "Shh."

Hades came into view and Persephone's breath caught—no matter how often she saw him, she didn't think she'd ever get used to his beauty. Today he looked tense and severe. She wondered what had happened.

She soon received her answer.

Minthe followed close behind and Persephone felt a rush of hot jealousy. They were arguing.

"You are wasting your time!" she heard Minthe say.

"It's not like I'm running out," Hades snapped, clearly not wishing to listen to the nymph lecture him. Minthe's face hardened.

"This is a club. Mortals bargain for their desires, they do not make requestsof the God of the Underworld."

"This club is what I say it is."

Minthe glared at the god. "You think this will sway the goddess to think better of you?"

The goddess? Was Minthe referring to her?

Hades eyes darkened at the nymph's comment. "I do not care what others think of me, and that includes you, Minthe." The nymph's face fell and Hades continued, "I will hear her offer, Minthe."

The nymph said nothing, and turned on her heels, walking out of sight. After a moment, a woman entered Hades' office. She wore a beige trench coat, a large sweater, and jeans. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being fairly young, she looked exhausted and Persephone didn't need Hades' powers to know that whatever burden she carried at this point in her life was heavy.

When the woman saw the god, she froze.

"You have nothing to fear," Hades said, that warm baritone soothed, and the mortal was able to move again. She offered a small, nervous laugh, and when she spoke her voice was rough.

"I told myself I wouldn't hesitate," she said. "I wouldn't let fear get the best of me."

Hades tilted his head to the side. Persephone knew that look—he was curious. "But you have been afraid. For a very long time."

The woman nodded, and tears spilled down her face. She brushed at them fiercely, hands shaking. She offered that shaky laugh again. "I told myself I wouldn't cry, either."

"Why?"

Persephone was glad that Hades asked, because she was just as curious. When the woman met the god's gaze, she was serious, her face still glistened with tears.

"The Divine are not moved by my pain."

Persephone flinched—Hades did not.

"I suppose I cannot blame you," the woman continued. "I am one in a million pleading for myself."

Again, Hades tilted his head. "But you are not pleading for yourself, are you?"

The woman's mouth quivered and she answered in a whisper, "No."

"Tell me," he coaxed—it was like a spell, and the woman obeyed.

"My daughter." The words were a sob. "She's sick. Pinealoblastoma. It's an aggressive cancer. I wager my life for hers."

"No!" Persephone said out loud, and Hermes quickly hushed her, but all she could think was—he can't! He won't!

Hades studied the woman for a long moment. "My wagers are not for souls like you," he said.

Persephone started forward. She would come out of this mirror and fight for that woman, but Hermes held onto her shoulder tight.

"Wait," he commanded.

Persephone held her breath.

"Please," the woman whispered. "I will give you anything—whatever you want."

Hades dared to laugh. "You could not give me what I want."

The woman stared, and Persephone's heart wrenched at the look in the woman's eyes. She was defeated. The woman hung her head, and her shoulders shook as she sobbed into her hands.

"You were my last hope. My last hope."

Hades approached her, placed his fingers under her chin, and lifting her head. Hades brushed her tears away and said, "I will not enter into a contract with you because I do not wish to take from you," he said. "That does not mean I will not help you."

The woman was shocked—Persephone was shocked, and Hermes chuckled under his breath.

"Your daughter has my favor. She will be well and just as brave as her mother, I think."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" The woman threw her arms around Hades, and the god stiffened, clearly unsure of what to do with the woman. Finally, he conceded, and embraced her. After a moment, he pulled her away and said, "Go. See to your daughter."

The woman took a few steps back and said, "You are the most generous god."

Hades looked amused. "I will amend my previous statement. In exchange for my favor, you will tell no one I have aided you."

The woman looked surprised. "But—"

Hades put up his hand—he would hear no argument. Finally, the woman nodded. "Thank you," she said and then turned to leave, practically racing out of the office. "Thank you!"

Hades watched the door for a moment before locking it with a snap of his fingers. Before she knew what was happening, she and Hermes were falling out of the mirror. Persephone wasn't prepared and hit the floor with a loud thud. Hermes landed on his feet.

"Rude," the God of Trickery said to Hades.

"I could say the same," The God of the Dead replied, his eyes falling unfavorably to Persephone as she got to her feet. "Hear everything you wanted?"

"I wantedto go to the Underworld but someonerevoked my favor."

It was like she hadn't even spoken. Hades gaze turned to Hermes. "I have a job for you, messenger."

Hades snapped his fingers, and without warning, Persephone was dumped in her desolate garden on her backside. A growl of frustration erupted from her mouth, and as she got to her feet, brushing dirt off her clothes, she yelled to the sky.

"Ass!"


	11. A Touch of Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

Persephone watered her garden, cursing Hades as she worked. She hoped he could hear every word. She hoped it cut him deep. She hoped he felt it every time he moved.

He'd ignored her.

He'd dumped her in the Underworld like she was nothing.

She had questions. She had demands. She wanted to know why he'd helped the woman, why he'd demanded her silence? What was the difference in this woman's request and Orpheus' wish to bring Eurydice back from the dead?

When she finished watering her garden, she tried to teleport back to Hades' office but found herself stuck. Why did he send her here? Did he have plans to find her after he was finished with Hermes? Would he restore her favor or would she have to find him every time she wanted to enter the Underworld?

That would be annoying.

She must have made him veryangry.

She decided she would explore his palace in his absence. She had only seen a few rooms—Hades' office, bedchamber, and the throne room. She was curious about the rest, and it was well within her rights to explore. If Hades got mad, she could argue that, judging by the state of her garden, it would be her home in six months anyway.

As she investigated, she noted Hades' attention to detail. There were gold accents, and various textures—fur rugs and velvet chairs. It was a luxurious palace, and she admired the beauty of it, just as she admired the beauty of Hades. She tried to argue with herself—it was in her nature to admire beauty. It didn't mean anything to think the God of the Dead and his palace were extraordinary. He was a god, after all.

Her exploration of the palace ended when she found the library.

It was magnificent. She had never seen anything like it—shelves and shelves of books with gorgeous, thick spines and gold embossing. The room itself was well furnished. A large hearth took up the far wall, flanked by dark shelves. These weren't full of books, but ancient clay vases inked with images of Hades and the Underworld. She could imagine settling into one of the cozy chairs, curling her toes into the soft rug and reading.

This would be one of her favorite places, Persephone decided, if she lived here.

But she should not be thinking about living in the Underworld at all. Maybe, after all of this was over, Hades would extend his favor to the use of her library.

Then, she wondered idly, if there was a kiss for that.

She wandered down the stacks, brushing her fingers along the spines. She managed to pull a few history books and then searched for a table so she could look through them. She had thought she located one when she found what looked like a round table, but as she went to place the books on it, she discovered it was actually a basin full of dark water, similar to that of the Styx.

She sat the books on the floor to get a better look at the basin. As she stared, a map appeared before her. She could see the river Styx and the Lethe, Hades' palace and gardens. Though the map appeared to sit in the black water, glorious color as vibrant as Hades' gardens soon bled across the landscape. She found it funny that the God of the Dead, who wore so much black, took such pleasure in color.

"Hmm," Persephone was sure this map was missing vital parts of the Underworld—like Elysium, and Tartarus.

"Strange," she whispered, she started to reach into the basin.

"Curiosity is a dangerous quality, my lady."

She gasped, and turned to find Hades behind her. Her heart beat hard in her chest.

"I'm more than aware," she snapped. The mark on her wrist had taught her that. "And don't call me my lady."

Hades watched her, and when he didn't say anything, Persephone spoke. "This map of your world is not complete."

Hades glanced at the water. "What do you see?"

"Your palace, Asphodel," she said. "The River Styx and the Lethe...that's it." All places she'd been before. "Where is Elysium? Tartarus?"

The corners of Hades mouth quirked. "The map will reveal them when you've earned the right to know."

"What do you mean earned?"

"Only those I trust most may view this map in its entirety."

She straightened. "Who can see the whole map?" He just smirked, so she demanded, "Can Minthe see the whole thing?"

His eyes narrowed and his lips turned up at the corners. "Would that bother you, Lady Persephone?"

"No," she lied.

His eyes hardened and his lips thinned. He turned then, and disappeared into the stacks. She hurried to pick up the books she pulled from the shelf and followed after him.

"Why did you revoke my favor?" she demanded.

"To teach you a lesson," he replied.

"To not bring mortals into your realm?"

"To not leave when you are angry with me," he said.

"Excuse me?" she halted, and sat the books on a nearby shelf. She hadn't expected that reply. Hades stopped, too, and faced her. They were standing in the narrow stacks, and the smell of dust floated in the air around them.

"You strike me as someone who has a lot of emotions and has never quite been taught how to deal with it all, but I can assure you, running away is not the solution."

"I had nothing more to say to you."

"It's not about words," he said. "I'd rather help you understand my motivations than have you spy on me."

"It was not my intention to spy," she said. "Hermes—"

"I know it was Hermes who pulled you into that mirror," he said. "I do not wish for you leave and be angry with me."

She should have taken his comment as an endearing, but she couldn't stop herself from sounding disgusted when she asked, "Why?"

It really wasn't disgust, it was confusion. Hades was a god, what care did he have about what she thought of him?

"Because," he said, and then thought for a moment. "It is important to me. I would rather explore your anger. I would hear your advice. I wish to understand your perspective."

She started to open her mouth and ask why again, when he answered, "Because you have lived among mortals. You understand them better than I. Because you are compassionate."

She swallowed and then managed, "Why did you helped the mother tonight?"

"Because I wished to."

"And Orpheus?"

Hades sighed, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. "It isn't so simple. Yes, I have the ability to resurrect the dead, but it does not work with everyone, especially where the Fates are involved," Hades answered. "Eurydice's life was cut short by the Fates for a reason. I cannot touch her."

"But the girl?"

"She wasn't dead, just in limbo. I can bargain with the Fates for lives in limbo."

"What do you mean bargain with the Fates?"

"It is a fragile thing," he said. "If I ask the Fates to spare one soul, I do not get a say in the life of another."

"But...you are the God of the Underworld!"

"And the Fates are Divine," he said. "I must respect their existence as they respect mine."

"That doesn't seem fair."

Hades raised a brow. "Doesn't it? Or is it that it doesn't sound fair to mortals?"

It was exactly that. "So, mortals are to suffer for the sake of your game?"

Hades jaw tightened. "It is not a game, Persephone." Hades voice was stern, and it gave her pause. "Least of all mine."

She glared at him. "So, you have offered an explanation for part of your behavior, but what of the other bargains?"

Hades eyes darkened, and he took a step toward her in the already-restricted space. "Are you asking for yourself or the mortals you claim to defend?"

"Claim?" She would show him—her arguments against his tricks were not for show.

"You only became interested in my business ventures after you entered into a contract with me."

"Business ventures? Is that what you call willfully misleading me?"

His brows rose. "So, this is about you."

"What you have done is unjust—not just to me but to all the mortals—"

"I do not want to talk about mortals. I would like to talk about you."

Hades moved toward her, and she took a step away, the bookcase pressing into her back.

"Why did you invite me to your table?"

Persephone glared and looked away. "You said you'd teach me."

"Teach you what, Goddess?" he asked. He stared at her a moment, eyes seductive and dark. Then his head dropped into the crook of her neck, and his lips brushed, feather-light over her skin. "What did you truly desire to learn then?"

"Cards," she whispered, but she could barely breathe, and she knew that she was lying. She'd wanted to learn him—the feel of him, the smell of him, the power of him.

He whispered words against her skin. "What else?"

She dared to turn her head then, and his lips brushed hers. Her breath caught hard in her throat. She couldn't answer—wouldn't. His mouth remained close to hers, but he did not kiss her, he waited.

"Tell me."

His voice was hypnotic and his warmth had her under a wicked spell. He was the adventure she craved. He was temptation she wanted to indulge. He was a sin she wanted to commit.

Her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted. She thought he might claim her then, but when he didn't, she took a deep breath, her chest rising against his, and said, "Just cards."

He drew back, and Persephone opened her eyes. She thought she caught his surprise, just before it melted into an unreadable mask.

"You must wish to return home," he said, and started down the stacks. If she wasn't talking to the God of the Dead, she would have thought he was embarrassed. "You may borrow those books, if you wish."

She gathered them into her arms and quickly followed after him.

"How?" she asked. "You withdrew my favor."

He turned to her, his eyes dark and emotionless. "Trust me, Lady Persephone. If I stripped you of my favor, you would know."

"So, I'm Lady Persephone again?"

"You have always been Lady Persephone whether you choose to embrace your blood or not."

"What is there to embrace?" she asked. "I'm an unknown god at best—and a minor one at that."

She hated the look of disappointment that shadowed his face.

"If that is how you think of yourself then you will never know power."

She was surprised by his comment, and met his gaze. Then she saw his hand move—he was about to send her away without warning again.

"Don't," she commanded, and Hades paused. "You asked that I not leave when I'm angry and I'm asking you not to send me away when you are angry."

"I am not angry," he said, dropping his hand.

"Then why did you drop me in the Underworld earlier?" she asked. "Why send me away at all?"

"I needed to speak with Hermes," he said.

"And you couldn't say that?"

He hesitated.

"Don't request things of me you cannot deliver yourself, Hades."

He stared at her. She wasn't sure what she expected of him—that her demands would make him angry? That he would argue that this was different? That he was a powerful god and he could do what he willed? Instead, he nodded. "I will grant you that curtesy."

She took a breath, relieved.

"Thank you."

He extended his hand. "Come, we can return to Nevernight together. I have...unfinished business there."

She took him up on the offer, and they teleported back to his office. They appeared right in front of the mirror she and Hermes had hide inside. Persephone tilted her head back so she could meet his eyes.

"How did you know we were in there? Hermes said we couldn't be seen."

"I knew you were here because I could feel you."

His words were made her shiver, and she withdrew from his warmth. She picked up her backpack where she'd left it on the couch, and heave it on her shoulders. On the way out the door, she paused.

"You said the map is only visible to those you trust. What does it take to gain the trust of the God of the Dead?"

He responded simply, "Time."


	12. God of the Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

"Persephone!"

Someone was calling her name. She rolled over, and covered her head with her blanket to muffle the sound. She left the Underworld late last night, and having been too keyed up to sleep, stayed up to work on her article.

She had a hard time choosing how she should proceed after watching Hades' help the mother. In the end she decided she had to focus on the bargains Hades made with mortals—the ones where he chose to offer an impossible bargain. As she had worked on the article, she found she was still frustrated, though she couldn't tell if it was over her bargain with Hades or their time in the stacks—the way he'd asked her what she wanted and refused to kiss her.

Her skin pricked with anticipation, though she wasn't anywhere near him.

Persephone pressed saved on her article at four in the morning and decided to rest a few hours before rereading it.

As she started to drift off, Lexa burst through her bedroom door.

"Persephone! Wake up!"

She groaned. "Go away!"

"Oh no, you're going to want to see this. Guess what's in the news today!"

Suddenly she was wide awake. Persephone shoved off her blankets and sat up. Her imagination took hold—had someone snapped a picture of her in her goddess form outside Nevernight? Had someone caught her inside the club with Hades? Lexa shoved her tablet into Persephone's face, and her eyes focused on something much worse.

"It's all over social media today," Lexa explained.

"No, no, no," she gripped the tablet with both hands. The title across the top of the page was black and bold and familiar:

Hades, God of the Gameby Persephone Rosi.

She read the first line, "Nevernight, an elite gambling club owned by Hades, God of the Dead, can be seen from anywhere in New Athens. The sleek pinnacle expertly mimics the imposing nature of the god himself and is a reminder to mortals that life is short—even shorter if you agree to gamble with the Lord of the Underworld."

This was her draft. Her real article remained safely on her computer.

"How did this get published?"

Lexa looked confused. "What do you mean? Didn't you submit it?"

"No." She scrolled through the article, her stomach in knots. She noticed some additions, like a description of Hades she would have never written. Hades' eyes were described as colorless chasms, his face callous, his manner, cold and boorish.

Boorish?

She would have never described Hades in such a manner. His eyes were inky, but expressive and every time she met his gaze, she felt like she could see the threads of his lifetimes there. In truth, his face could be callous, but when he looked at her, she saw something different—a softness to his jaw, an amusement alight in his face. A curiosity that burned, and his manner was anything but cold and boorish—he was passionate and charming and refined.

There was only one person who had gone with her and saw Hades in the flesh, and that was Adonis. He'd also invaded her workspace and read her article without permission. Guess he'd been doing more than just reading it. Persephone's anxiety was now only as strong as her fury. She tossed the tablet aside and jumped out of bed. The words running through her head were angry and vengeful and felt more like her mother's than her own.

He will be punished, she thought. Because I will be punished.

She took a few deep breaths to cool her anger and consciously worked to uncurl her fingers. If she wasn't careful, her glamour would melt away. It always seemed to react to her emotions—maybe that was because her magic was borrowed.

In reality, Persephone didn't want Adonis to be punished, at least not by Hades. The God of the Dead did not like the mortal. Bringing him to Nevernight had been a mistake for several reasons, that was clear now. Perhaps this was part of the reason Hades had wanted her to stay away from him.

A third emotion rose inside her—fear—and she tamped it down. She wouldn't allow Hades to get the best of her. Besides, she'd planned on writing about the god despite his threat.

"Where are you going?" Lexa asked.

"Work." Persephone disappeared into her closet, trading her nightshirt for a simple green dress. Maybe she could get the article taken out of publication before Hades saw it.

"But...you don't work today," Lexa pointed out. She still sat on Persephone's bed.

"I have to see if I can get ahead of this." Persephone reappeared, hobbling on one foot to buckle her sandals.

"Ahead of what?"

"The article. Hades can't see it."

Lexa's laugh escaped before she could control it. "Persephone, I hate to break it to you, but Hades has already seen the article. He has people who look for this kind of stuff."

Persephone met Lexa's gaze.

"Whoa," she said.

"What?" Persephone felt hysteria rise inside her.

"You're eyes...they're...freaky."

Persephone looked away quickly. Her emotions were all over the place. She avoided Lexa's gaze as she reached for her purse.

"Don't worry about it," she said quickly. "I'll be back later."

Persephone left her room and slammed the door to her apartment closed as Lexa called her name.

The bus wouldn't run for anther fifteen minutes, so she decided she'd go on foot. She dug her compact out of her purse and applied more magic as she walked. Her eyes had lost all of their glamour and glowed bottle-green. No wonder Lexa had been freaked out. Her hair was brighter, her face sharper. She looked more Divine than she ever had in public.

By the time Persephone arrived at the Acropolis, her mortal appearance was restored. When she walked off the elevator, Valerie stood.

"Persephone," she said nervously. "I didn't think you were in today."

"Hey, Valerie," she said, trying to remain cheerful and act like nothing was out of the ordinary—that Adonis hadn't stolen her article and that Lexa hadn't woken her up to shove the angry article in her face. "Just coming in to take care of a few things."

"Oh, well, you have several messages. I, uh, transferred them to your voicemail."

"Thanks."

But Persephone wasn't interested in her voicemails. She was here for Adonis. She dropped her purse at her desk and stalked across the workroom. Adonis sat with his earbuds in, focused intently on his computer. At first, she thought he was working on something—probably editing one he stole, she thought angrily, but as she came up behind him, she discovered he was watching some sort of television show—Titans After Dark.

She rolled her eyes. It was a popular soap opera about how the Olympians had defeated the Titians. Though she'd only watched parts of it, she'd started to imagine most of the gods as they were portrayed on the show.

Hades was all wrong—a pale, lithe creature with a hollow face. If Hades were going to seek revenge for anything, it should be how they depicted him on that show.

She tapped his shoulder and the mortal jumped.

"Persephone," he said, taking out an earbud. "Congr—"

"You stole my article," she cut him off.

"Stealing is a harsh term for what I did, Persephone," he said, pushing away from his desk. "I gave you all the credit."

"You think that matters?" she seethed. "It was myarticle, Adonis. Not only did you take it from me, but you added to it. Why? I told you I would send it to you once I finished."

In all honesty, she wasn't sure what she expected him to say, but it wasn't the answer he gave. He looked away from her. "I thought you would change your mind."

She stared at him a moment. "I told you I wanted to write about Hades."

"Not about that," he said. "I thought he might convince you he was justified in his contracts with mortals."

"Let me get this straight. You decided that I couldn't think for myself so you stole my work, altered it, and published it?"

"It's not like that. Hades is a god, Persephone—"

I'm a goddess, she wanted to yell.

"Hades isa god, and for that very reason, you didn't want to write about him. Youfeared him, Adonis. Not me."

He cringed. "I didn't mean—"

"What you meant doesn't matter," she snapped.

"Persephone?" Demetri called from his office. She and Adonis looked in the direction of their supervisor's office. "A moment?"

Her gaze slid back to Adonis, and she pinned him with a final glare before heading into Demetri's office.

"Yes, Demetri?" She stood in the doorway. He was sitting behind his desk, a fresh edition of the paper in hand.

"Take a seat," he said.

She did—on the edge, because she wasn't sure what Demetri would think of the article—she had a hard time calling it hers. Would his next words be 'you're fired?' It was one thing to say you wanted the truth, another to actually publish it.

She considered what she would do when she lost her internship. She now had less than six months until graduation. It was unlikely another paper would hire the girl who dared call the God of the Underworld the worst god. She knew many people shared Adonis's fear of Tartarus.

Just as Demetri started to speak, Persephone said, "I can explain."

"What is there to explain?" he asked. "It's clear by your article what you were trying to do here."

"I was angry," she explained.

"You wanted to expose an injustice," he said.

"Yes, but there's more. It's not the whole story," she said. She'd really only shown Hades in one light—and that was really in no light at all, just darkness.

"I hope it's not," Demetri said.

"What?" Persephone was confused.

"I'm asking you to write more," Demetri said.

The Goddess of Spring was quiet, and Demetri continued. "I want more. How soon can you have another article out?"

"About Hades?"

"Oh yes. You have only scratched the surface of this god."

"But I thought...aren't you...afraidof him?"

Demetri laid the paper down and leveled his gaze with hers. "Persephone, I told you from the beginning. We seek truth here at New Athens Newsand no one knows the truth of the King of the Underworld—you can help the world understand him."

Demetri made it all sound so innocent, but Persephone knew that what she would bring upon Hades from the article published today was only hatred.

"Those who fear Hades are also curious. They will want more and you're going to deliver."

Persephone straightened at his direct order. Demetri stood and walked to the wall of windows, his hands behind his back. "How about a bi-weekly feature?"

"That's a lot, Demetri. I'm still in school," she reminded him.

"Monthly, then," he said. "What "What do you say to...five, six articles?"

"Do I have a choice?" she muttered, but Demetri still heard. The corner of his mouth quirked. "Don't underestimate yourself, Persephone. Just think—if this is as successful as I think it will be, there will be a line of people waiting to hire you when you graduate."

Except it wouldn't matter because she'd be a prisoner—not just of the Underworld, but of Tartarus. She wondered how Hades would choose to torture her?

He'll probably refuse to kiss you, she thought and rolled her eyes at herself.

"Your next article is due on the first," he said. "Let's have some variety—don't just talk about his bargains, what else does he do? What are his hobbies? What does the Underworld really look like?"

Persephone felt uncomfortable at Demetri's questions, and she wondered if these questions were for him rather than the public.

With that, she was dismissed. Persephone walked out of Demetri's office and sat down at her desk feeling dazed. A monthly feature following the God of the Dead?

What have you gotten yourself into, Persephone? She groaned. Hades was never going to agree.

He doesn't have to agree,she reminded herself.

Perhaps this would give her a chance to bargain with Hades. Could she leverage the threat of more articles to convince him to let her out of the contract?

And would his promise of punishment turn out to be true?

***

Persephone went to class after leaving the Acropolis. It seemed like everyone had a copy of New Athens Newstoday. That bold, black headline glared back at her on the bus, on her walk across campus, even in class.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she twisted to find two girls. She wasn't sure of their names, but they'd sat behind her since the beginning of the semester and said nothing until today. The girl on the right held a copy of the paper.

"You're Persephone, right?" One of them asked. "Is everything you wrote true?"

That question made her cringe. Her instinct was to say no. She hadn't written the story, not in its entirety, but she couldn't. She settled on saying, "The story is evolving."

What she didn't anticipate was the excitement in the girls' eyes. "So, there will be more?"

Persephone cleared her throat. "Yeah...yes."

The girl on the left leaned farther over the table. "So, you've met Hades?"

"That's a stupid question," The other girl chided. "What she wants to know is what's Hades like? Do you have pictures?"

A strange feeling erupted in Persephone's stomach—a metallic twist that made her feel both jealous and protective of Hades—ironic, because she had promised to write about him. Still, now that she was posed with these questions, she wasn't sure she wanted to share her intimate knowledge of the god. Did she want to talk about how she'd caught him playing fetch with his dogs in a grove in the Underworld? Or how he'd amused her by played rock-paper-scissors?

These were...human aspects of the god, and all of a sudden, she felt possessive of them. They were hers.

She offered a small, unamused smile and said, "I guess you'll have to wait and see."

Demetri had been right—the world was just as curious about the god as they were afraid of him.

The girls in her class weren't the only people who stopped her to ask about her article. On her way across campus, several other strangers called out to her. She guessed they were testing her name, and once they discovered she was Persephone, they ran up to her to ask the same questions—Did you really meet Hades? What does he look like? Do you have a picture?

She made excuses to get away quickly. If there was one thing she hadn't anticipated, it was this—the attention she would receive. She couldn't decide if she liked it or not.

Persephone passed through the Garden of the Gods, when her phone rang.

She answered, "Hello?"

"Adonis told me the good news! A series on Hades! Congrats! When do you interview him next and can I come?" Lexa laughed.

"T-Thanks, Lex," Persephone managed. After stealing her article, it didn't surprise her that Adonis had also taken the opportunity to text her friend about her new work assignment before she even got a chance to tell her.

"We should celebrate! La Rose this weekend?" Lexa asked.

Persephone groaned. La Rose was an upscale nightclub owned by Aphrodite. She had never been inside, but she'd seen pictures. Everything was cream and pink and, like Hades' Nevernight, there was an impossible waitlist.

"How are we supposed to get into La Rose?" Persephone asked.

"I have my ways." Lexa replied, mischievously. Persephone wondered if those ways included Adonis, and she was about to say that when she caught a flash in the corner of her eye. Whatever Lexa was saying on the other line was lost as her attention moved to her mother who now stood a few feet in front of her.

"Hey, Lex. I'll call you back," she said and hung up. She stared at Demeter and acknowledged her with a curt, "Mother. What are you doing here?"

"I had to ensure you were safe after that ridiculous article you wrote. What were you thinking?"

Persephone was shocked. "I thought—I thought you'd be proud. You hate Hades."

"Proud? You thought I'd be proud?" she scoffed. "You wrote a critical article on a god—but not just any god, Hades! You deliberately broke my rule—not once but multiple times." When she looked surprised, her mother said, "Oh, yes. I know you have returned to Nevernight on multipleoccasions."

Persephone glared at her mother for a moment, and then asked, "How?"

Demeter's eyes fell to the phone in her hand. "I tracked you."

"You trackedmy phone?" She knew her mother wasn't above violating her privacy to keep tabs on her. She'd proven that by having her nymphs spy on her. Still, Demeter hadn't bought her phone, nor did she pay the bill. She had no right to use it as a GPS. "Are you serious?"

"I hadto do something," Demeter said. "You weren't talking to me."

"Since when?" she demanded. "I saw you Monday!"

"And you cancelled our lunch," the goddess sniffed. "We hardly spend time together anymore."

"And you think stalking me will encourage me to spend more time with you?" Persephone demanded.

Demeter laughed. "Oh, my flower, I cannot stalk you. I am your mother."

Persephone glared. "I don't have time for this." She tried to sidestep her mother and leave, but she found she couldn't move—her feet were welded to the ground. Hysteria rose inside, and Persephone met her mother's dark gaze. It was in that moment she saw her mother as the vengeful goddess she was—the one who lashed nymphs and killed kings.

"I have not dismissed you," Her mother said. "Remember Persephone, you are only here by the grace of my magic."

Persephone wanted to scream at her mother. Keep reminding me I'm powerless. But she knew challenging her was the wrong move. It was what Demeter wanted so she could dole out her punishment, so instead, she inhaled a shaky breath and whispered her apology.

"I'm sorry, mother." There was a tense moment as Persephone waited to see if Demeter would release her or abduct her. Then she felt her mother's hold loosen, and her legs shook.

"If you return to Nevernight again, see Hades everagain, I will take you from this world," she threatened.

Persephone wasn't sure where she gathered her courage, but she managed to look her mother in the eyes and said, "Don't think for a second that I will ever forgive you if you send me back to that prison."

Demeter was amused. "My flower, I don't require forgiveness."

Then she vanished.

Persephone knew Demeter meant her warning. The problem was, there was no way to get around going back to Nevernight. She had a contract to fulfill and articles to write.

Persephone's phone vibrated in her hand and she looked down to see a message from Lexa.

"Yes to La Rose??"

She texted back: Sounds great.

She was going to need a lot of alcohol to forget this day.


	13. La Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Touch of Darkness is available now on amazon! Link: https://tinyurl.com/y6m9qdtw

Persephone and Lexa took a taxi to La Rose. It wasn't her preferred method of travel. She felt like they were a game of chance—she never knew what she was going to get. A smelly cab, a talkative driver, or a creepy one. Tonight, they'd gotten a creepy one. He kept taking long looks at them in the rearview mirror, and had become so distracted, he'd had to swerve hard to miss oncoming traffic.

She glared at Lexa, who had insisted they couldn't arrive at La Rose on a bus.

Better that than dead, she muttered now.

"Five articles about the God of the Dead," Lexa said dreamily. "What do you think you'll write about next?"

She honestly didn't know, and right now she didn't care to think about Hades, but Lexa wasn't going to let it go.

She gasped—it was the sound she made when she had an idea or something terrible was happening. Persephone was sure that whatever was about to come out of her mouth was probably both.

"You should write about his love life."

"What? No. Absolutely not."

Lexa pouted. "Why not?"

"Uh, what makes you think Hades would share that information with me?"

"Persephone, you're a journalist. Investigate!"

"I'm not really interested in Hades' past lovers," Persephone said, looking out the window.

"Past lovers?" her best friend questioned. "That makes it sound like he has a current lover...like you're the current lover."

"Uh, no," Persephone blushed. "I'm pretty sure the Lord of the Underworld is sleeping with his assistant."

"Write about that!" Lexa encouraged.

"I'd rather not. Lexa. I work for New Athens News, not the Delphi Divine. I'm interested in truth."

Besides, she'd rather not learn whether or not that was true. Just thinking about it made her sick.

"You're pretty sure Hades is banging his assistant just get it confirmed and it's truth!"

She sighed, frustrated. "I don't want to write about trivial things. I want to write about something that will change the world."

"And bashing Hades' godly antics will change the world?"

"It might," Persephone argued and Lexa shook her head. "What?"

Her friend sighed. "It's just....all you did in publishing that article was confirm everyone's thoughts and fears about the God of the Dead. I'm guessing there are other truths about Hades that weren't in that article."

"What's your point?"

"If you want your writing to change the world, write about the side of Hades that makes you blush."

Persephone face heated. "You're such a romantic, Lexa."

"There you go again," she said. "Why can't you just admit you find Hades attractive—"

"I have admitted— "

"And that you're attracted to him?"

Persephone's mouth snapped shut, and she crossed her arms over her chest, withdrawing her gaze from Lexa to the window. She didn't want to talk about this.

"What are you afraid of, Persephone?"

Persephone closed her eyes against that question. Lexa wouldn't understand. It didn't matter if she liked Hades or not, if she found him attractive or not, if she wanted him or not. He was not for her. He was forbidden. Maybe the contract was a blessing—it was a way to think of Hades as a temporary thing in her life.

"Persephone?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Lexa," she said tightly, hating the direction this conversation had gone.

They didn't speak, even after they arrived at La Rose. When Persephone left the cab, the distinct smell of rain hit her nose, and when she looked up, lightening illuminated the sky. She shivered, wishing she had chosen a different outfit. She wore a slippery, shimmery teal dress that reached mid-thigh. It hugged the curve of her breasts and hips, and the deep V-neck left little to the imagination. She had chosen the dress to spite Hades—it was silly. She'd wanted to look like power, like temptation, like sin—all for him.

She wanted to dangle herself in front of him, and then draw back at the last moment when he was close enough to taste her.

She wanted him to want her.

It was all pointless, of course. La Rose was another god's territory, and it was unlikely that Hades would see her tonight.

La Rose was a beautiful building that looked like several crystals jutting from the earth. They were made of mirrored glass, so that at night, they reflected the light of the city. Like Nevernight, there was a huge line to get inside.

A sudden chill of unease spread over Persephone and she glanced around, unsure of where it was coming from, when her eyes landed on Adonis.

He was grinning ear to ear, striding toward her and Lexa dressed in a black shirt and jeans. He looked comfortable, confident, and smug. She was about to ask what he was doing here when Lexa called out to him.

"Adonis!" She hugged him around the middle, and he returned the embrace.

"Hey, babe."

"Babe?" Persephone asked flatly. "Lexa...what's going on?"

She pulled away from Adonis. "Adonis wanted to celebrate you, so he reached out to me. We thought it would be fun to surprise you!"

"Oh, I am surprised," Persephone said, glaring at Adonis.

"Come, I have a suite," Adonis said. He took Lexa's hand and looped it through his arm, and when he offered the same to Persephone, she declined.

Adonis's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, looking down at Lexa to grin as if nothing was amiss.

The goddess considered leaving, but she had come with Lexa, and she really didn't feel comfortable leaving her with Adonis. At some point tonight, she was going to have to tell her best friend about what her crush had done.

Adonis led them passed the line and inside the club.

Music vibrated Persephone's body as she entered, and there was a misty, pink hue to the air from laser lights. The ground floor had room for dancing, and places to sit that were curtained in crystals. The upper tiers of the club were suites, and overlooked a stage and the dance floor.

Adonis led them up a set of stairs to a suite on the second floor. It was luxurious. A curtain of crystals created a barrier from the outside world. Soft pink couches sat on either side of a fire pit which offered warmth and a place for drinks.

"This is my personal suite," Adonis said.

"This is amazing," Lexa said, walking straight to the balcony overlooking the dance floor.

"You like?" Adonis asked, still standing near the entrance.

"Of course," Lexa responded. "You'd have to be crazy not to."

"What about you, Persephone?" Adonis looked at her expectantly. Why was he seeking praise from her?

"You must be very lucky," she said instead of answering him. "You're on the VIP list at two clubs owned by gods."

Adonis's eyes dulled, but he didn't miss a beat. "You should know I'm lucky, Persephone. I set your career in motion."

She glared at him, and he smirked, then crossed the room to stand beside Lexa who hadn't heard their exchange over the music. Lexa leaned into him and Adonis placed his hand on the small of her back. Persephone stared at them for a moment, feeling conflicted over her anger at Adonis and Lexa's infatuation with the man. She wondered how Adonis made Lexa feel. Did her heart feel like it wanted to leave her chest? Did he make her whole body feel electric when he touched her? Did her thoughts scatter when he entered the room?

A waitress came to take their order. She was mortal, and dressed in a tight, iridescent dress. It reminded Persephone of the inside of a shell.

"A cab, please." Persephone told the girl.

Shortly after their drinks came, Sybil, Aro, and Xeres arrived. Sybil wore a short black leather skirt and a lacy top. The twins matched tonight, choosing dark jeans, black shirts, and leather jackets. They took a seat opposite Persephone, and placed their orders with the waitress. After she left, Sybil stood and looked around the suite.

"My, my, my, Adonis. Looks like Favor has its perks."

The air in the room changed. Persephone sought Lexa's gaze, but she wasn't looking at her—or anyone. She had turned her attention to the dance floor. This is what Persephone had feared. If Adonis did have a god's favor, it meant that any mortal he set his sights on was possibly in danger. Lexa knew that, and she wasn't going to risk the wrath of a god.

"Don't believe everything you hear, Sybil," he said.

"You expect us to believe you get all these passes because you work for New Athens News?" asked Xeres.

Adonis sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Persephone," Aro said. "You work for the news, do you get passes to popular clubs?"

She hesitated, "No—"

"Persephone here was invited to Nevernight by Hades himself."

She glared at Adonis for opening his mouth. She knew what he was doing, trying to take the attention off himself. Luckily, no one took the bait.

"Keep denying it. I know a charmed one when I see one," said Sybil.

"And we all know you're fucking Apollo, but we don't say anything," said Adonis.

"Whoa, that was out of line, man," said Aro, but Sybil raised her hand to silence her friend's defense.

"At least I'm honest about my favor," she said.

The longer this went on, the more Persephone knew she had to get her friend out of this suite. Lexa was going to need air, and some time to get over the disappointment of getting her hopes up about Adonis.

Persephone stood and crossed the room.

"Lexa, let's dance." Persephone took her hand and led her out of the suite. Once they were downstairs, Persephone turned to Lexa.

"I'm okay, Persephone," she said quickly.

"I'm sorry, Lexa."

She was quiet a moment, and nibbled on her lip. "Do you think Sybil is right?"

The girl was an Oracle which meant she was probably more in tune with the truth than anyone in the party, but still, all Persephone could say was, "Maybe?"

"Who do you think it is?"

It could be anyone, but there were a few goddesses and gods who were notorious for taking mortal lovers—Aphrodite, Hera, and Apollo just to name a few.

"Don't think about it. We came here to have fun, remember?"

A waitress approached them and handed them two drinks.

"Oh, we didn't order—" Persephone started to say, but the waitress interrupted.

"On the house," she said, and smiled.

She and Lexa took a glass. The liquid inside was pink and sweet, and they drank fast—Lexa to drown her sadness, and Persephone for courage to dance. Once they were finished, she grabbed Lexa's hand and drug her into the throng.

They danced together and the crowd moved around them, rocking them back and forth. It wasn't long before Persephone felt flushed and dizzy. She stopped dancing, but the world still spun, sending her stomach turning.

It was then she noticed she'd become separated from Lexa. The faces blurred around her as she pushed through the crowd, growing dizzier with each jolt to her body. She thought she caught sight of her friend's electric blue dress, and followed but when she came to the edge of the dance floor, Lexa wasn't there.

Maybe she'd gone back up to the suite.

Persephone started back up the steps. Each move made her head feel like it was full of water. At one point the dizziness was too much, and she paused to close her eyes.

"Persephone?"

She peeled her eyes open to find Sybil standing in front of her.

"Are you okay?"

"Have you seen Lexa?" she asked. Her tongue felt thick and swollen.

"No. Have you—"

"I have to find Lexa," she said, and turned away from her, heading back downstairs. At this point, she knew something was wrong with her. She needed to go home.

"Whoa, whoa—wait," Sybil stepped in front of her. "Persephone, how much have you had to drink?"

"One glass," she said.

The girl shook her head, looking concerned. "There's no way you've just had one glass."

Persephone pushed past her, she wasn't going to argue about how much alcohol she had tonight. Maybe Lexa was in the bathroom. She tried to keep to the wall as she searched for her friend, but found she was pulled into the sea of moving bodies. It was then someone grabbed her wrist and drew her toward them. She put her hands out, and they landed on a hard chest, but the body was not Hades.

Instead, she looked up into Adonis's face.

"Whoa, where you going babe?"

"Let me go, Adonis," she snapped and tried to pull away.

"Shh, it's alright. I'm a friend."

"If you were a friend—"

"You're going to have to get over that little article thing, babe."

"Don't call me babe, and don't tell me what to do."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a handful?" He asked, and then his hold on her tightened, forcing their hips together. She wanted to vomit, and she though she might. "Let's dance."

"If I wanted to dance with you, I wouldn't be asking you to let go."

"I just want to talk," he said.

"No."

Adonis's face changed in that moment. His playful smirk turned down, and his bright eyes darkened. "Fine," he said. "We don't have to talk."

His hand snaked behind her head, fisting in her hair, and he pressed his lips against hers hard. She clamped her mouth shut, and pushed against him fiercely, but he held tight, attempting to pry her mouth open with his tongue. She hated it, and tears sprang to her eyes. It was a horrible kiss, cold and lifeless and unwanted. Then he was yanked off her and dragged away by two ogres.

She turned, and relief flooded her whole body.

"Hades," she breathed. She welded herself to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. One of Hades' hands pressed into her back, the other one twisted into her hair. He held her close for a moment before drawing her back. He reached for her chin, and drew her head up so their eyes met.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She shook her head no, swallowing thickly. There were so many things wrong with this day and night. "Let's go."

He guided her toward him, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder and led her through the crowd. It parted for him easily. She was vaguely aware that Hades' presence in the club had caused a type of silent chaos. The music still blared in the background, but no one was dancing. They'd all stopped to watch as he steered her off the dance floor.

"Hades—" she started to warn him, but the god seemed to know what she was thinking and answered, "They will not remember this."

That satisfied her and she continued with Hades toward the exit, until she remembered that she needed to find her best friend.

"Lexa!"

She turned too fast, and her vision swam. She swayed, and Hades caught her, scooping her into his arms.

"I will ensure she gets home safe," Hades said.

Any other time she would have protested or argued, but the world was still spinning, even with her eyes closed.

"Persephone?" Hades asked. His voice was low, and his breath brushed her lips.

"Hmm?" she asked, her brows knitted together, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Dizzy," she whispered.

He didn't speak again. She could tell when they'd stepped outside because the cool air touched every inch of her exposed skin and the sound of rain hit the awning over La Rose's entrance. She shivered, snuggling closer to Hades' warmth. She inhaled his now familiar scent of ash and spice.

"You smell good," she mumbled.

She fisted his jacket, pressing as close to him as possible. His body was like a rock. He'd had centuries to chisel this physique.

She heard Hades chuckled and she opened her eyes to find him looking at her. Before she could ask what he was laughing at, he shifted, holding her close and tight as he folded into the backseat of a black limo. She caught a glimpse of Antoni as he shut their car door.

The cabin they were in was cozy and private. Hades slid her off his lap and into the leather seat beside him. She watched his lithe fingers adjust the controls so that the vents were pointed at her and the heater was on full blast.

After they were on the road, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

"You don't listen to orders."

She laughed. "I don't take orders from you, Hades."

He raised a brow. "Trust me, darling. I'm aware."

"I'm not yours and I'm not your darling."

"We've been through this, haven't we? You are mine. I think you know that just as well as I do."

She folded her arms over her chest. "Have you ever thought that maybe you're mine, instead?"

His lips twitched and his eyes fell to her wrist. "It is my mark upon your skin."

Maybe the alcohol made her brave. She shifted, sliding her leg across Hades lap so that she straddled him. Her dress rose, and she could feel him against her, hard and aroused. She smiled and his gaze returned to hers instantly, this time, it was like fire scorching her skin.

"Shall I leave a mark?" she asked.

"Careful, Goddess." His words were a harsh growl.

"Another order," she rolled her eyes.

"A warning," Hades said through gritted teeth, and then his hands clasped her bare thighs and she inhaled sharply at the feel of his skin against hers. "But we both know you don't listen, even when it's good for you."

"You think you know what's good for me?" she asked, dangerously close to his lips. "You think you know what I need?"

His hands moved up—pushing her dress higher, and she gasped as his fingers neared the apex of her thighs. Hades laughed. "I don't think, Goddess, I know. I could make you worship me."

Persephone bit her lip, and his eyes fell there and remained. So, she closed the distance between them, sealing her lips to his. He opened to her immediately, and she tasted him deep, taking what was hers to claim. Her fingers tangled into his hair, tilting his head back to kiss him deeper. In this position, she felt powerful.

When she finally pulled away, it was to nibble at his ear.

"You will worship me," she said, and rolled her hips against him. His hands dug into her skin, and she moved in, her cheek brushing his as she whispered. "And I won't even have to order you."

She didn't think his hands could grasp her any tighter, and then suddenly, he lifted her up effortlessly, and maneuvered her so that she was cradled tight against him. He fixed her dress, and then covered her with his own jacket.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Goddess."

She blinked, confused by the sudden change in Hades. He had rejected her.

"You're just afraid," she said.

Hades didn't speak, but when she glanced at him, he was glaring out the window, jaw locked tight, hands fisted, and she got the sense she might be right.

It wasn't long after she fell asleep in his embrace.


	14. A Touch of Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can read the whole book here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07S9HLL34/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p1_i0

She found Hades sitting before his blazing fireplace. It was probably the most god-like she'd ever seen him. He looked perfectly untouched—not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle in his jacket, not a button undone. He held his whisky in one hand, and the fingers of his other hand rested upon his lips. The halo of fire roaring behind him also seemed fitting, as it raged like his eyes.

It was how she knew that though he appeared to be reclining, he was wound tight.

He kept her gaze, not speaking, and took a sip of his drink.

"Why am I naked?" Persephone asked.

"Because you insisted on it," he answered in a voice void of the barely-restrained desire he'd exhibited in the limo. She didn't have many memories from last night, but she was sure she'd never forget the press of Hades' fingers into her thighs, or the delicious friction that sent shockwaves through her body. "You were very determined to seduce me."

Persephone blushed fiercely, embarrassed. She looked away when she asked, "Did we—"

Hades laughed darkly. Persephone clenched her teeth so hard, her jaw hurt. Why was he laughing? "No, Lady Persephone. Trust me, when we fuck, you'll remember."

When?"Your arrogance is alarming."

His eyes flashed. "Is that a challenge?"

"Just tell me what happened, Hades!" She demanded.

"You were drugged at La Rose. You're lucky you are immortal. Your body burned through the poison fast."

Not fast enough to prevent embarrassment, apparently.

She remembered a waitress approaching once they'd hit the dance floor. She brought them drinks, said they were on the house. Soon after she'd consumed it and started to dance, the music had sounded far away, the lights were blinding, and every move she made sent her head spinning.

She also remembered hands on her body and cold lips closing over hers.

"Adonis," Persephone said. Hades jaw tightened at hearing the mortal's name. "What did you do to him?"

Hades looked at his glass, swirling the whisky before downing the last bit. Once he finished, he sat the glass aside, not looking at her.

"He is alive, but that is only because he was in his goddess's territory," he answered.

"You knew!" Persephone accused, she pushed off the bed, and stood. Hades' silk sheets rustled around her. His penetrating gaze drifted from her face down, tracing every line of her body. She felt as if she were standing bare before him.

"Is that why you warned me to stay away from him?"

"I assure you there are more reasons to stay away from that mortal than the favor Aphrodite has bestowed upon him."

"Like what? You cannot expect me to understand if you don't explain anything." She'd taken a step toward him, even though some part of her knew it was dangerous. Whatever Hades had gone through in the night was still racing through his mind.

"I expectthat you will trust me," he said, standing. The admission shocked her. Then he added, "And if not me, then my power."

She hadn't even considered his powers—the ability to see the soul for what it was—raw and burdened. What did he see when he looked at Adonis?

A thief, she thought. A manipulator.

Hades put distance between them, refilling his glass at the small bar in his room.

"I thought you were jealous!" Hades was about to take a drink, but he paused to laugh. She was both angry and hurt at his dismissal.

"Don't pretend you don't get jealous, Hades. Adonis kissed me last night."

Hades slammed the glass down. "Keep reminding me, Goddess, and I'll reduce him to ash.

"So, you arejealous!" she accused.

"Jealous?" he questioned, and stalked toward her. "That...leech...touched you after you told him no. I have sent souls to Tartarus for less."

She recalled Hades anger at Duncan, the ogre who had laid his hands on her, and she realized that was why he was on edge. He probably did want to find Adonis and incinerate him.

"I'm...sorry," she wasn't sure what to say, but his distress seemed so great, she thought she might ease it with an apology. She only made it worse.

"Don't you dare apologize," he said, and cupped her face. "Not for him. Never for him."

He studied her and then whispered, "Why are you so desperate to hate me?"

Her brows came together, and she covered his hands with her own.

"I don't hate you," she said quietly, and Hades stiffened, tearing away from her. The violence with which he moved surprised her and the anger and tension she'd seen in him this morning returned.

"No? Shall I remind you? Hades, Lord of the Underworld, Rich One, and arguably the most hated god among mortals, exhibits a clear disregard for mortal life."

He quoted her article word for word, and Persephone cringed. How many times had he read it? How he must have seethed.

Hades jaw worked. "This is what you think of me?"

She opened her mouth and closed it before deciding to explain, "I was angry—"

"Oh, that is more than obvious," Hades' voice was sharp.

"I didn't know they would publish it!"

"A scathing letter illustrating all of my faults? You didn't think the media would publish it?"

She glared at him. "I warned you."'

It was the wrong thing to say.

"You warned me?" He set his gaze upon her, dark and angry. "You warnedme about what, Goddess?"

"I warned you that you would regret our contract."

"And I warned you not to write about me," he stepped closer to her, and she didn't back down, tilting her head to keep his gaze.

"Perhaps in my next article, I'll write about how bossy you are," she said.

"Next article?"

"You didn't know? I've been asked to write a series on you."

"No," he said.

"You can't say no. You're not in control here."

"And you think you are?"

"I'll write the articles, Hades, and the only way I'll stop is if you let me out of this Gods-damned contract!"

Hades went rigid, and then he hissed, "You think to bargain with me, Goddess?" The heat coming off him was almost unbearable. He inched forward—it wasn't like he had much space—he was already so close to her. She stuck out one hand, clutching the sheet to her body with the other.

"You've forgotten one important thing, Lady Persephone. To bargain, you need to have something I want."

"You asked me if I believed what I wrote!" She argued. "You care!"

"It's called a bluff, darling."

"Bastard," she hissed. Hades reached out, burying his hand in her hair, he hauled her against him and pulled her head back so that her throat felt taunt. It was savage and possessive and she craved him.

"Let me be clear—you bargained and you lost. There is no way out of our contract unless you fulfill its terms. Otherwise, you remain here. With me."

"If you make me your prisoner, I will spend the rest of my life hating you."

"You already do."

She flinched again. She didn't like that he thought that and kept saying it, finding herself asking a similar question to the one he had offered earlier.

"Do you really believe that?"

He didn't answer, just offered a mocking laugh, and then pressed a hot kiss to her mouth before tearing away viciously.

"I will erase the memory of him from your skin."

She was surprised by his ferocity, but it thrilled her. He tore away the silk sheet and she stood naked before him. He lifted her off the ground and she wrapped her legs around his waist without a second thought. He gripped her bottom tight and kissed her. The friction of his clothes against her bare skin drove her to the edge, and liquid heat pooled at her core. Persephone raked her hands into Hades' hair, grazing his scalp as she freed his long strands, gripping it hard in her hands. She pulled his head back and kissed him hard and deep. A guttural sound escaped Hades' mouth, and he moved, backing her into the bedpost, grinding into her hard. His teeth grazed her skin, biting and sucking. It kept her from breathing, eliciting gasps from deep in her throat.

Together they were mindless, and when she found herself sprawled out on the bed, she knew she would give Hades anything. He wouldn't even have to ask.

But the God of the Dead stood over her, breathing hard. His hair spilled over his shoulders. His eyes were dark, angry, aroused—and instead of closing the distance he had created between them, he smirked.

It was unsettling, and Persephone knew she wasn't going to like what came next.

"Well, you would probably enjoy fucking me, but you definitely don't like me."

Then he was gone.

***

Persephone found her dress neatly folded in one of the two chairs in front of Hades' fireplace. A black cloak sat beside it. As she pulled on her dress and the cloak, she thought of how Hades had looked at her when she awoke. How long had he sat watching her sleep? How long had he simmered in his rage? Who was this god who appeared out of nowhere to rescue her from unwanted advances, claimed it wasn't jealousy, and folded her clothes? Who accused her of hating him, but kissed her like he had never partook of something so sweet?

Her body flushed as she thought about how he'd lifted her and moved her to the bed. She couldn't recall what she'd been thinking, but she knew it wasn't telling him to stop—still, he'd left her.

That heady flush turned to anger.

He'd laughed and left her.

Because this is a game to him, she reminded herself. She couldn't let her strange and electric attraction to him overpower that reality. She had a contract to fulfill.

Persephone left Hades' room via the balcony to check on her garden. Despite her resentment of the greenhouse, Persephone still loved flowers, and the God of the Underworld had managed to create one of the most beautiful gardens she'd ever seen. She marveled at the colors and the scents—the sweet smell of wisteria, the heady and sultry scent of gardenias and roses, the calming scent of lavender.

And it was all magic.

Hades had lifetimes to learn his powers, to craft illusions that deceived the senses. Persephone had never known the feel of power in her blood. Did it burn hot like the need Hades ignited within her? Did it feel like last night when she'd boldly straddled him and whispered challenges in his ear as she tasted his skin?

That had been power.

For a moment, she'd controlled him.

She'd seen lust cloud his gaze, heard his growl of passion, felt his hard arousal.

But she'd not been powerful enough to keep him under her spell.

She was beginning to think she would never be powerful enough.

Which is why a mortal life suited her so well—why she could not let Hades win.

Except she wasn't sure how she was supposed to win when her garden still looked like a scorched piece of Earth. As she came to the end of the path, the lush gardens gave way to a bald patch of earth where the soil was more like sand, and black as ash. It had been a few weeks since she'd planted the seeds in the ground. They should be sprouting by now, even without magic, mortal gardens at least produced that much life. If it had been her mother's garden, it would already be fully grown. Persephone had harbored a secret hope that through this process, she would discover some dormant power that didn't involve stealing life, but standing before this barren patch of Earth made her realize how ridiculous that hope was.

She couldn't just wait around for power to manifest or for mortal seeds to sprout in the Underworld's impossible soil. She had to do something more. She straightened and went in search of Hecate.

Persephone found the Goddess in a grove near her home. Hecate wore purple robes today, and her long hair was braided and snaked over her shoulder. She sat, cross-legged, in the soft grass petting a furry weasel. Persephone squealed when she saw it.

"What is that?" She demanded.

Hecate smiled softly and scratched the creature behind its small ear. "This is Gale. She is a polecat."

"That is not a cat," Persephone argued.

"Polecat," Hecate said, laughing quietly. "She was once a human witch, but she was an idiot, so I turned her into a polecat."

Persephone stared at the goddess, but Hecate didn't seem to notice her stunned silence.

"I like her better this way."

She looked up at the Goddess of Spring then and asked, "But enough about Gale. What can I help you with, my dear?"

That question was all it took—Persephone erupted, breaking into a seething tangent about Hades, the contract, and her impossible wager, avoiding details about this morning's disaster. She even admitted her greatest secret—that she could not grow a single thing. When she was finished, Hecate looked thoughtful but not surprised.

"If you cannot give life, what can you do?" she asked.

"Destroy it."

Hecate's pretty brows furrowed over her dark eyes.

"You have never grown anything at all?" Hecate asked.

Persephone shook her head, and then met the Goddess' gaze.

"Show me."

"Hecate...I don't think that's—"

"I'd like to see

Persephone sighed, and turned her hands over. She stared at her palms for a long moment before bending and pressing them to the grass. Where it was green before, it yellowed and withered beneath her touch. When she looked at Hecate, the goddess is staring at her hands.

"I think that is why Hades' challenged me to create life, because he knew it was impossible."

Hecate did not look so certain. "Hades does not challenge people with the impossible. He challenges them to embrace their potential."

"And what is my potential?" She asked.

"To be the Goddess of Spring," Hecate answered. The polecat hopped off her lap as she got to her feet, brushing off her skirts. She expected the goddess to continue asking questions about her magic, but instead she said thoughtfully, "Gardening is not the only way to create life."

Persephone looked at the Goddess. "How else should I create life?"

She could tell by the amused look on her face that she wasn't going to like what Hecate had to say.

"You could have a baby."

"What?"

"Of course, to fulfill the contract, Hades would have to be the father," she continued as if she hadn't heard Persephone. "He would be furious if it were anyone else."

She decided she was going to ignore that comment. "I'm not having Hades' child, Hecate."

"You asked for suggestions. I was merely trying to be a good friend."

"And you are—but I am not ready for children and Hades is not a god I would want as a father to my children."

She felt a bit guilty for saying that last part out loud.

"What am I going to do? Ugh, this is impossible!"

"It is not as impossible as it seems, my dear. You are in the Underworld, after all."

"You do realize the Underworld is the realm of the dead, don't you Hecate?"

"It is also a place for new beginnings," she said. "Sometimes, the existence a soul leads here is the best life they've ever had. I'm sure you, of all the gods, understand that best."

The realization settled heavy upon Persephone's shoulders. She did understand that.

"Living here is no different than living up there. You challenged Hades to help mortals lead a better existence. He has merely charged you with the same here in the Underworld."


End file.
